GIFT  or 

Ella  Sterling  Mighels 


40  o  ^  II O  C  i» 


LyU/DFPBACM  o"r 


Frontispiece. 


THE  NEW  SCHOLAR. 


See  paf^e  io6. 


THE 


Wonderful  Story 


OF 


GENTLE    HAND, 


AND   OTHER  STORIES. 


By   T.    S.    ARTHUR. 


>      »  *    3   ». 


CHICAGO,    ILLS.: 

WESTERN    PUBLISHING    HOUSE. 

18  74. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  LV,  ^y 

y.  M.  STODDART  d-    CO., 
In  the   Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at    Washington 

QiPTQH 


^^'  '^^-^y 


r^ilS%:^:'\V-,  \    I  :] 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

THE   WONDERFUL  STORY   OF  GENTLE    HAND       9 

THE   SQUIRREL  HUNT ..  53 

NEDDY  HARRIS 55 

ONE   OF  BABY'S   TEACHERS         79 

EASTER  EGGS          83 

HOW  BOBBY  RYAN   CAME  NEAR  BEING   DROWNED 89 

BE  A  .GOOD   GIRL . .  92 

THE  SNOW  STORM        96 

GOD'S   ACRE IOC 

THE   WHITE  ROSE 104 

THE    NEW   SCHOLAR     ..       ..       ..       ..       ..       106 

THE   SISTERS 108 

KATIE'S   RIDE  DOWN    HIl.1 113 

CHRISTMAS   IS  COMING        ..        ..       ^ " 119 

DON'T^.CRY   OVER  SPILLED   MILK     ,.       132 

TIRED    OF   READING ..       136 

THE  YOUNG   SOLDIER 141 

b 


903954 


PAGH 

THE   NEW    SCHC   .AR       Frontispiece. 

GRETCHEN'S    VISIT         n 

EASTER  EGGS  15 

BOBBY  RYAN'S   DELIVERANCE 25 

THE   RUINED   CASTLE 35 

THE   SQUH  ?.EL   HUNT  51 

NEDDY   THINKS 56 

BRAIN   FOOD 63 

NEDDY   FISHING 68 

THE  YOUNG    SOLDIER  71 

WASN'T  GOD   VERY   GOOD   TO   LET   US   HAVE    HIM  ? 79 

FANNY    IS    NOT   GOOD  ..  84 

BE  A   GOOD  GIRL  ..       93 

I'M   SO   DISA.  POINTED  * 97 

FIARRY    DELTGHTKD 9^ 


8  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGR 

GOD'S   ACRE *  .. loi 

THE   WHITE   ROSE          104 

LOVING   SISTER  AND   SWEET   PET  BROTHER         ..       no 

COASTING,  OR   DOWN   HILL         115 

CHRISTMAS    MORNING ..       ..       ..  123 

TIRED    OF   READING 137 


Gentle  Hand. 


WONDERFUL  STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 


M  going  to  tell  you  about  a  child  who  lived  a  great 
many  years  ago  in  a  far-away  country — a  little  de- 
formed and  homely  child.  When  only  two  years  old, 
she  fell  and  hurt  herself  very  badly  and  had  to  lie  in 
bed  a  long  time.  A  great  hump  grew  on  her  back,  her 
breast-bone  was  pushed  out  and  her  head  was  drawn  down 
between  her  shoulders.  Her  face  lost  its  healthy  color  and 
roundness,  and  had  a  pale,  pinched  look  that  was  sad  to  see. 

She  was  unlovely  in  all  eyes  save  the  eyes  of  her  widowed 
mother,  who  lived  in  a  mean  little  cottage,  for  they  were  very 
poor.     The  child's  name  was  Elsie. 

One  gloomy  day  in  mid-winter,  when  the  air  was  full  of  snow 
and  the  north  winds  rushing  and  roaring  through  the  great 
forest,  a  woodman,  in  passing  the  poor  widow's  cottage,  noticed 
that  no  smoke  came  out  of  the  chimney,  and  he  said  to  him- 
self: 


*        9 

.•i>(^:;^^    I  /.  ^ 'wonderful  s'J'orv  of  gentle  hand. 

''  What  does  this  mean  ?  I  must  stop  and  see.  The  widow 
Hermann  may  be  sick." 

So  he  turned  aside  and  knocked  at  the  door.  But  as  no  one 
bade  him  come  in,  he  lifted  the  latch  and  entered  the  cottage. 
How  cold  and  still  it  was !  No  fire  on  the  hearth  and  no  sign 
of  life. 

Then  he  pushed  open  a  little  chamber  door,  and  saw^  a  sight 
that  drew  tears  to  his  eyes.  On  the  bed,  with  a  white  but 
peaceful  face,  lay  the  widow  Hermann,  and  close  beside  her 
was  Elsie — the  mother  in  the  land  of  spirits,  the  child  in  the 
land  of  dreams.  For  a  moment  or  two  the  woodman  stood 
gazing  at  the  two  pale  faces,  and  then  turned  noiselessly  away 
and  left  the  cottage.  His  own  poor  hut  w^as  nearly  half  a  mile 
distant,  and  he  ran  all  the  way  through  the  blinding  snow. 

''  Oh,  Felice,"  he  cried,  in  a  panting  voice,  as  he  swung  open 
the  door  of  his  hut,  "the  widow  Hermann  is  dead!" 

"  Well,"  answered  Felice,  coldly,  ''  we've  all  got  to  die  one 
time  or  another.     It's  her  time  now,  that's  all." 

"But,"  said  the  woodman,  "I  found  her  dead  in  her  cottage. 
I  was  going  by  and  saw  no  smoke  coming  from  the  chimney, 
and  so  I  w^ent  in  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  and  there  she  lay 
dead,  with  little  Elsie  asleep  by  her  side.  Such  a  sight !  I 
haven't  got  over  it  yet !"     And  the  man  shivered. 

Now,  Felice  was  not  tender  of  feeling  like  her  husband,  but 
a  cold,  selfish,  hard-hearted  woman. 

"  It's  no  matter  of  ours,"  she  answered.  "  Let  somebody 
else  find  it  out." 

At  this  the  woodman  got  angry  and  spoke  roughly  to  his 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 


wife,  calling  her  evil  names.  A  violent  quarrel  ending  in  blows 
would  have  followed  had  not  a  little  old  woman  with  a  wrinkled 
face,  her  cloak  white  with  snow,  pushed  open  the  door  of  their 
hut  and  cried,  reproachfully, 

*'For  shame,  good  neighbors  !" 

"  Why,  Gretchen  !"  said  the  woodman,  in  surprise,  turning  to 
the  small,  quaint  figure  that  stood  in  the  door.  "It's  no  day 
for  you  to  be  out." 


"  I'm  neither  salt  nor  sugar,"  answered  the  woman,  with  a 
strange  little  laugh  that  had  in  it  something  pleasant  and 
cheery.  ''  All  days  are  alike  to  me  when  there's  good  to  be 
done." 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  the  woodman. 

"To  the  widow  Hermann's.     She  was  sick  yesterday.     And 


12  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

Hans  Gobreight,  who  drove  by  her  cottage  this  morning,  says 
he  didn't  see  any  smoke  coming  out  of  her  chimney." 

Felice  and  her  husband  exchanged  glances. 

"  Then  I'll  go  with  you,"  said  the  woodman. 

"Ah!  that's  eood !"  exclaimed  old  Gretchen.  "You  were 
always  a  kind  neighbor." 

The  woodman  spoke  in  low  tones  to  his  wife,  but  she 
answered  sharply  : 

"  I  wonder  at  you,  Paul,  when  you  know  Fm  cramped  and 
aching  with  rheumatism !  It  would  be  the  death  of  me  to  go 
out  on  a  day  like  this." 

Then  she  drew  her  husband  aside  and  said  to  him  in  a  low 
whisper : 

''  Mind  ye,  Paul,  and  don't  bring  that  ugly  Elsie  home  with 
you  !     I  won't  have  her." 

The  woodman  and  the  little  old  woman,  Frau  Gretchen, 
went  in  the  thickly-falling  snow  to  the  lonely  cottage  on  the 
roadside.  They  found  everything  just  as  when  Paul  was  there 
an  hour  before — the  mother  in  the  land  of  spirits  and  Elsie  in 
the  land  of  dreams — but  did  not  waken  the  child  until  a  fire 
was  kindled.  Then  Paul  lifted  her  up  tenderly,  and  carried 
her  out  of  the  chamber  where  she  had  been  sleeping  beside 
her  dead  mother. 

Poor  little  Elsie!  Homely,  deformed  and  almost  helpless, 
what  was  to  become  of  her  ?  As  the  woodman  held  her  in  his 
arms  he  thought  of  this,  and  a  sad  feeling  came  into  his  heart. 
He  looked  into  her  pinched,  colorless  face,  and  it  was  unlovely 
in  his  eyes — nay,  almost  repulsive.     The  hump  on  her  back 


WONDERFUL  STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND.  1 3 

came  sharply  against  his  breast  and  made  him  shiver.  He  was 
about  putting  her  down  on  the  floor,  so  strong  was  the  feeUng 
of  disHke  that  came  over  him,  when  her  soft  Htde  hand  was 
laid  on  his,  touching  it  gently  as  a  falling  snow-flake,  but  with 
a  living  warmth  that  seemed  to  dissolve  and  run  down  to  his 
heart,  making  it  glow  with  a  new  and  tender  delight. 

The  arm  that  was  relaxing  tightened  its  hold  on  Elsie,  and 
she  was  drawn  closer  against  the  woodman's  breast.  What  did 
this  mean  ?  The  little  baby-fingers — for  they  were  small  as  a 
baby's — still  rested  on  Paul's  great  rough  hand,  and  the  current 
of  love  kept  running  down  to  his  heart,  and  thrilling  it  with  a 
strange  pleasure  such  as  he  had  never  known.  And  now, 
when  he  looked  into  the  pale,  wan  face,  it  did  not  seem  repuls- 
ive ;  nay,  its  very  homeliness  was  gone,  and  in  its  stead  he 
saw  something  soft  and  pure  and  tender  that  won  his  love.  It 
was  a  wonderful  transformation. 

Old  Gretchen  came  out  from  the  chamber  of  death,  and 
stood  for  a  while  looking  at  the  child,  who  was  still  held  closely 
against  the  woodman's  heart. 

"Take  the  baby  home,  good  neighbor,"  she  said,  ''and  then 
go  for  the  Sisters." 

"  I  will  take  her  to  the  Sisters,"  answered  Paul. 

But  Gretchen  said, 

"  No,  no  !     Felice  and  you  are  childless.     Take  her  home." 

Then  Gretchen  put  warm  garments  around  Elsie  to  protect 
her  from  the  snow  and  cold,  and  the  woodman  carried  her  to 
his  hut.  When  Felice  saw  him  enter  with  the  child  in  his  arms, 
she  flew  into  a  great  passion. 


14  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

"Why  did  you  bring  die  ugly  wretch  here?"  she  cried. 
"  Take  her  to  the  Sisters  !"  And  she  waved  her  hand  toward 
the  door. 

The  poor  child  shrank  in  terror  against  the  woodman's 
breast.  One  litde  soft  hand  lay  in  his,  and  the  magic  of  its 
touch  filled  his  heart  with  love  and  courage. 

Paul  did  not  heed  his  wife,  but  sat  down  with  the  child  in  his 
arms,  and  commenced  taking  off  the  thick  w^rappings  that  old 
Gretchen  had  put  round  her. 

*'Take  her  away!  Take  her  away!"  cried  Felice,  more 
angrily.     ''  Take  her  to  the  Sisters  !" 

But  Paul  answered  firmly  :  "  No,  Felice.  We  will  keep  the 
poor  litde  thing.  She  has  no  mother  now,  and  you  will  be  a 
mother  to  her." 

On  hearing  this  the  woman  became  more  enraged,  and 
threatened  to  fling  Elsie  out  into  the  snow  if  her  husband  did 
not  take  the  child  off  instantly. 

And  now  a  wonderful  thing  happened.  Elsie  struggled  out 
of  the  kind  arms  that  held  her,  and  standing  before  the  woman, 
touched  one  of  her  hands  gently.  A  quick  change  was  seen  in 
the  woman's  face.  An  angry  word  died  half  spoken  on  her 
tongue.  She  stood  very  still,  though  a  moment  before  her  body 
swayed  with  passion. 

The  child's  soft  hand  rested  on  the  woman's  hand  so  lighdy 
that  it  seemed  like  down.  A  long  silence.  Then  Felice  said 
in  a  voice  that  trembled  with  feeling, 

"  Poor  litde  one !"  And  stooping  down,  she  gathered  the 
child  into  her  arms  and  kissed  her  pale  face  with  motherly  ten- 


1    LAt'cr-'SACh 


EASTER    EGGS. 


See  page  86. 


>  ^-i  4 


WONDERFUL   STORY  c  .    LE  HAND.  1 7 

derness.  As  she  did  so,  the  hand  ci  iiisic.  vas  laid  on  her  face, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  a  new  Hfe  came  'v:-  --*"  he  hand,  warm  and 
sweet,  and  full  of  tenderness  and  lov^  . 

"We  will  keep  her,  Paul,"  said  his  wife,  "and  I  will  be  a 
mother  to  her." 

Did  Elsie  know  of  the  strange  power  that  lay  in  her  small 
hand  ?  I  think  she  did.  It  was  soft  and  weak  as  a  baby's,  and 
yet  so  wonderfully  strong  that  its  touch  could  change  anger 
into  love.  What  a  gift  it  was  !  Better  for  her,  poor  litde 
motherless  one !  deformed  in  body  and  unlovely  in  counte- 
nance, than  to  have  been  the  possessor  of  great  riches,  for  gold 
does  not  bring  love — love,  the  best  and  sweetest  thing  in  life. 

Leaving  Elsie  with  his  wife,  the  woodman  went  through  the 
fast-falling  snow  to  the  convent  not  far  off,  and  told  the  Sisters 
of  poor  widow  Hermann's  death,  as  Gretchen  had  desired  him 
to  do,  and  then  returned  home,  for  he  felt  troubled  about  Elsie, 
knowing  his  wife's  hardness  and  bad  temper.  He  would  not 
have  been  greatly  surprised  if  he  had  found  little  Elsie  shiver- 
ing in  the  snow  outside  of  his  hut.  The  magic  of  her  touch  he 
did  not  yet  understand.  He  had  felt  its  power,  yet  did  not 
perceive  clearly  from  whence  it  came.  The  love  born  of  that 
touch  was  very  sweet,  but  his  dull  mind  did  not  see  how,  like 
an  electric  current,  it  had  leaped  from  her  fingers  to  his  heart, 
and  from  her  fingers  to  the  heart  of  Felice. 

Paul  did  not  find  Elsie  lying  in  the  snow  outside  of  his  hut, 
but  fast  asleep,  with  her  head  resting  peacefully  on  the  bosom 
of  Felice,  who  raised  her  fingers  in  silent  warning  as  he  entered, 
and  then  let  her  eyes  fall  with  a  gaze  of  tenderness  on  the 


1 8  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND, 

child,  whose  soft  hand  lay  closely  shut  within  one  of  her  own. 
Paul  came  and  sat  down  by  his  wife,  and  bent  lovingly  over  the 
sleeping  little  one. 

''  She  isn't  at  all  homely,"  whispered  Felice,  gazing  down  at 
the  poor  pinched  face.  "  I  never  saw  such  beautiful  hair ;"  and 
she  lifted  some  of  it  on  her  fingers.  ''  It  is  like  spun  gold ! 
And  such  soft  skin,  Paul !  I've  been  looking  at  it  for  ever  so 
long.  See  how  the  blue  veins  run  across  her  temples  and  over 
her  eyelids  and  down  her  white  neck !  Oh,  I  think  her  almost 
handsome,  Paul.  We  will  keep  her.  She  shall  be  ours — our 
own  Elsie,  if  she  is  deformed,  poor  little  one  !" 

And  Felice  could  not  help  kissing  the  child  just  as  a  fond 
mother  would  have  done.  Elsie's  large  eyes  opened,  and  she 
looked  wonderlngly  and  half  frightened  Into  the  faces  bending 
over  her.  They  were  so  full  of  love  that  her  heart  took  cour- 
aee  and  the  scared  look  vanished. 

The  child  did  not  ask  for  her  mother,  but  by  her  sorrowful 
face  and  eyes  every  now  and  then  filling  with  tears,  it  was  plain 
to  the  woodman  and  his  wife  that  Elsie  knew  her  mother  was 
dead,  and  the  pity  they  felt  made  them  love  her  the  more. 

Now,  the  Sisters  at  the  convent,  when  they  heard  that  Elsie 
had  been  taken  home  by  Paul,  said  one  to  another, 

''This  will  never  do.  Felice  is  cold,  selfish  and  cruel,  and 
will  be  unkind  to  the  child.  She  must  come  Into  the  convent 
as  one  of  God's  poor." 

And  they  sent  two  of  their  number  to  the  woodman's  hut  to 
bring  Elsie  away. 

The  stormy  day  was  drawing  to  Its  close.     Felice  was  busy 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND.  1 9 

getting  supper,  and  Paul  sat  near  the  fire  with  Elsie  on  his 
knee.  There  was  a  rap  on  the  door,  and  the  two  Sisters  from 
the  convent,  their  black  garments  covered  with  snow,  entered 
and  said  to  Paul  and  his  wife : 

"We  have  come  for  litde  Elsie." 

"And  will  go  back  without  her!"  answered  Felice,  flashing 
up  angrily  and  going  quickly  over  to  where  Paul  sat  with  the 
child.  She  had  no  respect  for  any  one  nor  fear  of  any  one 
when  her  will  was  crossed. 

"  Her  mother  is  in  heaven,  and  she  is  one  of  God's  poor 
who  are  given  into  our  care,"  said  the  Sisters,  gendy. 

"God  has  given  her  into  our  care,  good  Sisters,"  spoke  out 
Paul,  mildly  but  firmly.  "She  is  our  child  now,  and  we  will 
love  her  as  our  own." 

As  Felice  stood  by  her  husband  and  Elsie,  her  eyes  full  of 
angry  defiance,  like  some  wild  beast  whose  young  were  threat- 
ened, the  Sisters  saw  a  strange  thing  that  filled  them  with 
wonder.  A  litde  hand  reached  out  and  laid  itself  gendy  on 
the  woman's  hand.  Then  the  fire  went  out  of  her  eyes,  the 
hardness  and  anger  from  her  lips,  and  a  motherly  tenderness 
and  softness  stole  over  her  countenance.  Stooping  down,  she 
kissed  the  child  fondly,  then  lifted  her  into  her  arms.  Elsie 
laid  her  head  with  a  low  murmur  of  sadsfaction  against  the 
bosom  of  Felice,  and  looked  into  the  eyes  that  were  bent  upon 
her  with  love  and  confidence. 

"  It  is  kind  in  you  to  come  for  her,  good  Sisters,"  said  Felice, 
in  so  changed  a  voice  that  they  marveled  still  more,  "but  she 
is  our  child,  and  we  cannot  let  her  go,  because  we  love  her." 


20  WONDERFUL  STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND, 

The  Sisters  went  back  to  the  convent,  wondering  at  what 
they  had  seen  and  heard,  and  unable  to  understand  its  mean- 
ing. 

That  night,  after  Elsie  was  asleep,  Paul  and  his  wife  sat  talk- 
ing together,  and  soon  fell  into  their  old  bad  habit  of  speaking 
roughly  to  each  other.  Felice  had  a  very  sharp  tongue,  the 
thrust  of  which  Paul  could  not  always  stand,  and  so  they  often 
got  to  quarreling.  Their  loud  and  angry  voices  soon  awoke 
the  child,  who  started  up  in  affright.  But  love  quickly  over- 
came her  fear.  In  an  instant,  gliding  like  a  spirit  across  the 
floor,  she  was  at  the  side  of  Felice,  her  soft  hand  resting  on 
that  of  the  angry  woman,  and  the  sweetness  and  gentleness  of 
her  own  pure  heart  going  in  warm  currents  to  that  of  the  other. 

Ah !  we  have  the  secret  of  Elsie's  power  now.  It  was  love. 
The  reaching  forth  of  her  hand  was  only  an  effort  to  give  of 
her  love  with  all  its  gentle  sweetness,  and  the  touch  of  that 
hand  was  like  a  good  deed,  full  of  blessing. 

Anger  went  out  like  a  candle  blown  on  suddenly,  and  peace 
came  in  where  passion  had  ruled  a  moment  before.  The  wood- 
man and  his  wife  grew  dumb  in  the  presence  of  a  child. 

It  was  known  to  all  the  neio^hbors  far  and  near  that  the 
woodman's  wife  was  a  hard  and  passionate  woman,  and  when 
they  heard  that  Elsie  had  gone  to  live  with  her,  every  one  pit- 
ied the  child  and  said  that  her  life  would  be  wretched.  What 
was  their  surprise  when  It  was  told  by  one  and  another  who 
happened  to  call  In  at  the  woodman's  hut  that  Elsie  was  happy 
in  her  new  home,  and  that  Felice  was  kind  and  loving  to  her  as 
a  mother ! 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE   HAND.  21 

The  Sisters  told  what  they  had  seen,  and  this  neighbor  and 
that  told  what  she  had  seen,  and  all  agreed  that  the  child  had 
some  wonderful  power  in  her  hands,  for  at  their  softest  touch 
the  fire  had  been  seen  to  go  out  of  angry  faces.  Soon  the 
neighbors  began  to  speak  of  the  child  as  "Gentle  Hand,"  and 
the  fame  of  her  magic  touch  spread  far  and  wide,  until  it  came 
to  the  ears  of  a  lady,  the  wife  of  a  great  lord,  who  lived  in  a 
castle.  Now,  the  name  of  this  lady  was  Margaret,  and  she 
had  five  children — two  sons  and  three  daughters — and  there 
was  strife  among  these  children  always,  so  that  the  lady  had 
no  comfort  with  them,  but  was,  on  account  of  this  strife,  almost 
heartbroken  at  times. 

When  the  Lady  Margaret  heard  of  Gentle  Hand  and  the 
strange  power  of  her  softest  touch — how  it  subdued  anger  and 
filled  all  hearts  with  kindness  and  love — she  said  to  herself,  ''  I 
must  see  this  wonderful  child,  and  if  all  be  true  that  is  told  of 
her,  I  will  bring  her  home  to  the  castle  and  set  her  among  my 
children." 

So  she  went  in  her  carriage  almost  a  day's  journey  to  the 
woodman's  hut — for  she  lived  a  long  way  off — to  see  Elsie,  or 
Gentle  Hand,  as  we  must  call  her.  Now^  it  happened  that  on 
this  very  day  Felice  had  died,  after  a  sudden  illness  that  lasted 
only  a  few  hours,  and  when  the  Lady  Margaret  came  to  the 
woodman's  hut  she  found  death  and  sorrow  therein. 

"  Is  there  a  child  here  called  Gentle  Hand  ?"  she  asked  of 
Paul,  who  met  her  at  the  door  of  his  poor  hovel. 

"  There  Is  a  child  here  called  Elsie,"  answered  the  wondering 
Paul. 


2  2  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

"May  I  see  her?"  said  the  Lady  Margaret  as  she  stepped 
down  from  her  carriage. 

Paul  made  a  sign  for  her  to  enter,  and  in  the  next  moment 
she  stood  in  the  presence  of  the  dead  woman,  who  had  been 
laid  out  by  the  Sisters,  two  of  whom  sat  near  the  body.  A 
child  with  a  wan,  shrunken,  almost  repulsive  face  looked  up  as 
she  came  in,  and  gazed  at  her  through  tearful  eyes. 

"  That  is  Elsie,"  said  the  woodman. 

"  You  have  another  child  here  ?"  said  the  lady. 

"  Only  Elsie,"  replied  the  woodman  with  a  sorrowful  tender- 
ness that  did  not  escape  the  lady's  notice. 

Lady  Margaret  was  silent  for  some  moments.  She  felt 
greatly  disappointed.  This  she  thought  was  not  the  child  in 
search  of  whom  she  had  come  so  far.  There  had  been  some 
mistake.  Then  she  asked  about  the  dead  wife  of  Paul,  and 
while  the  Sisters  answered  her  questions  she  held  out  her  hand 
in  pity  toward  Elsie,  but  the  child  did  not  move. 

''  Will  you  not  come  and  speak  to  me  ?"  asked  the  lady. 

"  Go  to  her,  Elsie,"  said  the  Sisters. 

Then  the  child  went  slowly  across  to  where  the  Lady 
Margaret  sat,  and  laid  one  of  her  soft  little  hands  in  that  which 
had  been  stretched  out  to  her. 

The  Sisters,  who  were  looking  at  Lady  Margaret,  saw  her 
face  flush  and  change.  She  fixed  her  gaze  in  a  searching  kind 
of  way  on  the  child's  countenance,  while  a  tender  light  began 
to  shine  in  her  eyes. 

"  Is  this  the  child  they  call  Gentle  Hand  ?"  she  asked,  in  a 
subdued  voice,  lookino-  at  the  Sisters. 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND.  23 

*'  Many  call  her  Gentle  Hand,"  they  replied. 

Then  the  lady,  moved,  it  seemed,  by  a  feeling  she  could  not 
control,  stooped  over  Elsie  and  kissed  her  lips  and  forehead 
with  loving  tenderness.  The  soft  hand  with  its  magic  touch 
still  lay  in  hers,  and  now  she  held  it  tightly. 

''  Will  you  go  home  and  live  with  me  ?"  asked  the  lady. 

Elsie  drew  away  quickly  and  went  over  to  the  side  of  Paul, 
who  was  standing  by  his  dead  wife.  Paul,  who  had  heard  what 
the  lady  said,  took  up  Elsie  and  held  her  for  a  little  while 
closely  to  his  breast.  Then  crossing  the  room,  he  laid  her 
light  and  tiny  form  in  the  arms  of  Lady  Margaret,  saying  as 
he  did  so,  in  a  broken  voice : 

"  My  poor  hut  is  no  place  for  her  now." 

Rising  quickly,  ere  Elsie  could  object  the  lady  bore  her  out 
to  her  carriage,  and  a  moment  after  they  were  driven  rapidly 
away. 

Bewildered,  passive,  helpless,  the  child  made  no  resistance, 
but  sat  very  still  on  the  cushioned  seat  opposite  the  lady.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  all  this  was  a  dream,  and  that  she  would 
soon  awaken.  Her  heart  was  full  of  sorrow  for  Felice,  who 
had  been  kind  to  her  as  a  mother. 

The  Lady  Margaret  saw  the  sorrow  in  her  homely  little  face, 
and  pity,  mingled  with  a  strange  yearning  love,  stirred  her 
heart,  so  she  reached  out  her  hand  and  said : 

"  Come  and  sit  beside  me." 

As  Elsie  moved  to  obey  she  grasped  the  extended  hand.  In 
the  next  moment  she  was  lifted  into  Lady  Margaret's  arms  and 
drawn   closely  to   her  bosom,  a  new,  strange   feeling  darting 


24  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

throueh  her.     The  maoric  touch  of  the  child's  hand  had  sent  a 
quick  thrill  of  tenderness  to  her  heart. 

"  Is  it  a  fairy  child  ?"  said  the  lady  to  herself^  wonderingly,  "  or 
an  angel  disguised  in  a  poor,  deformed  body  ?" 

It  was  an  angel  disguised,  or  rather  imprisoned,  in  a  body  of 
flesh.     The  lady's  thought  had  reached  the  truth. 

Every  moment,  as  the  hand  of  Elsie  continued  to  rest  in 
hers,  the  Lady  Margaret  felt  her  love  grow  deeper  and 
stronger.  Looking  down  upon  the  child's  face,  it  seemed  to 
change  in  her  eyes ;  the  pale  skin  had  a  semi-transparent  tex- 
ture and  a  warmth  of  color  as  from  light  within.  The  features 
lost  their  pinched  aspect,  rounding  to  a  softer  fullness.  What 
was  homely,  almost  repulsive,  a  little  while  before,  now  put  on 
a  garment  of  beauty. 

Nor  was  all  this  a  mere  fancy.  Part  of  the  transformation 
was  real.  If  the  purity  and  innocence  of  Elsie,  with  whose 
spirit  angels  dwelt  in  close  companionship,  though  she  knew  it 
not,  made  itself  felt  in  other  hearts  by  the  touch  of  her  hand, 
the  love  she  awakened  by  this  touch  came  back  in  returning 
currents  to  her  own  heart,  and  thence  flushed  her  face,  giving 
it  a  semblance  of  beauty.  • 

The  lady  bent  over  Elsie  and  kissed  her  on  lips  and  cheeks 
and  forehead. 

"  Will  you  love  me  ?"  asked  the  child,  putting  up  her  small 
arms  and  clasping  them  around  the  lady's  neck. 

''  Yes,  if  you  will  go  home  with  me  and  be  like  one  of  my 
own  children,"  answered  the  Lady  Margaret,  again  kissing  her 
fondly. 


.S>('  paa-r  89. 


HOW  B(JHBV  RYAN  CAME  NEAR  BEING  DROWNED. 


2  "^: 


'^z%-'i^:.' 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF   GENTLE   HAND.  2 J 

"  Will  they  love  me  ?"  asked  Elsie,  a  shadow  falling  across 
her  face  as  she  looked  down  at  her  poor  garments. 

For  a  little  while  the  lady  did  not  speak.  Ah,  too  well  she 
knew  that  no  love  awaited  the  child !  But  then,  as  she  felt  the 
soft  arms  clasping  her  neck,  she  said  in  her  heart,  "  She  is  an 
angel,  and  where  an  angel  dwells  there  will  be  love."  Speak- 
ing aloud  she  answered : 

"  Love  brings  love.  Oh  yes !  They  cannot  help  loving 
you." 

Elsie  gazed  long  into  the  tender  eyes  that  bent  over  her ; 
then  her  head  sank  upon  the  Lady  Margaret's  bosom,  and  as 
the  carriage  rocked  her  gently  like  an  infant  in  a  cradle,  she 
fell  asleep. 

Lord  Hubert,  the  husband  of  Lady  Margaret,  was  a  bold, 
passionate,  wicked  man,  feared  by  all  over  whom  he  had  any 
power.  Carl,  his  oldest  son,  a  boy  of  fifteen,  had  all  the  bad 
qualities  of  his  father,  and  was  as  active  in  stirring  up  strife  at 
home  as  his  father  too  often  was  among  his  neighbors.  Helen, 
younger  by  two  years  than  Carl,  was  self-willed  and  exacting, 
and  Ursula,  ten  years  of  age,  had  a  fiery  temper  that  no  dis- 
cipline or  punishment  had  been  able  to  restrain.  Hubert, 
seven  years  old,  and  Lilli,  in  her  fifth  summer,  took  from  their 
mother  more  of  her  gentle  character  than  the  rest,  but  their 
lives  were  often  made  miserable  by  their  older  brothers  and 
sisters,  who  took  an  evil  delight  in  tormenting  them. 

Into  such  a  home  as  this  the  Lady  Margaret  brought  the 
unlovely  crippled  child.  Gentle  Hand  was  sound  asleep 
among  the  cushions  in  the  carriage  when   they  arrived,  long 


28  WONDERFUL  STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

after  nightfall,  at  the  castle,  and  a  servant  was  ordered  to  lift 
her  sofdy  and  to  carry  her  to  one  of  the  chambers. 

Lord  Hubert  had  grown  impatient  at  his  wife's  long  absence, 
and  met  her  with  angry  words.  The  children  had  been  quarrel- 
ing amone  themselves,  as  usual,  and  filled  her  ears  with  com- 
plaints  and  accusations. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  demanded  her  husband,  a  dark 
frown  on  his  face,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone. 

The  Lady  Margaret  answered  truly  that  she  had  been  a  long 
distance  in  search  of  a  child  about  whom  she  had  heard  strange 
things,  and  that  she  had  found  the  child  and  brought  her  home, 
but  she  did  not  say  what  the  strange  things  were. 

At  this  Lord  Hubert  grew  more  angry,  and  said  that  he 
would  not  have  other  people's  children  brought  into  the  castle 
without  his  consent.  Lady  Margaret  pleaded  with  him,  but 
this  only  made  him  the  more  violent. 

"Where  is  the  child?"  he  demanded. 

The  Lady  Margaret  took  him  into  the  chamber  where  th'^e 
servant  had  borne  Cxentle  Hand,  and  they  found  the  weary 
child  lying  asleep  on  the  bed. 

"The  fright!"  cried  Lord  Hubert  as  his  eyes  rested  on  her 
pinched  and  homely  face.  Gende  Hand  started  up  at  his 
angry  voice. 

"Take  her  away!"  He  spoke  in  stern  command  to  a  ser- 
vant, who  went  quickly  to  the  bed  and  lifted  Gentle  Hand  in 
her  arms.  But  as  the  child  clung  about  her  neck  and  she  felt 
the  touch  of  her  soft  hand,  a  strange  thing  happened.  She 
stood  modonless  for  an  instant,  a  gleam  of  surprise  in  her  face, 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND.  29 

and  then  she  put  the  child  back  gently  and  with  a  reverent  air, 
bending  over  and  gazing  upon  her  with  looks  of  tenderest 
love. 

At  this  Lord  Huoert  became  furious,  and  laying  his  hand  on 
the  servant,  drew  her  violently  from  the  bed.  Then  he  caught 
up  the  child,  saying,  in  his  cruel  anger, 

"  I  will  throw  her  out  of  the  window !"  and  strode  across  the 
floor,  meaning  to  do  what  he  had  said.  But  stopping  suddenly,  a 
look  half  of  wonder,  half  of  fear,  on  his  bold,  bad  face,  he  gazed 
down  at  the  child.  Lady  Margaret,  who  had  started  forward 
with  a  cry  of  terror,  stood  sdll  also,  and  looking  closely,  saw 
that  a  hand  of  Elsie's  was  clinging  tightly  to  one  of  Lord 
Hubert's. 

What  a  moment  of  joy  for  the  heart  of  Margaret !  Tears 
gushed  from  her  eyes.  She  clasped  her  hands  together,  and 
looking  upward,  gave  thanks  to  God. 

As  for  Lord  Hubert,  he  seemed  to  himself  to  be  in  a  dream. 
Suddenly  all  anger  toward  this  child  had  gone  out  of  him,  and 
in  its  stead  there  had  come  into  his  heart  a  tender  feeling,  like 
that  of  a  mother  for  her  baby. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  my  poor  child,"  he  said,  in  so  changed  a 
voice  and  with  so  changed  a  manner  that  it  seemed  to  those 
that  heard  him  as  if  another  man  were  speaking;  "I  will  not 
harm  a  hair  of  your  head." 

Then  looking  toward  Lady  Margaret,  who  was  crying  for  joy, 
he  asked, 

"  What  is  her  name  ?" 

"  She  is  called  Gentle  Hand,"  was  the  answer. 


30  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

''  Gentle  Hand  !  Gentle  Hand  !"  And  Lord  Hubert  looked 
more  bewildered  as  he  repeated  the  name. 

Then  the  Lady  Margaret  went  up  close  to  her  husband,  and 
speaking  softly  in  his  ear,  so  that  the  child  could  not  hear  her 
words,  said, 

"  I  think  she  is  an  angel." 

A  shade  of  reverence,  not  unmingled  with  fear,  passed  over 
the  hold's  man's  face.  He  made  a  movement  to  lay  Gentle 
Hand  on  the  bed  from  which  he  had  taken  her,  but  as  he  did 
so  she  turned  and  clung  to  him,  saying,  "Won't  you  love  me?" 
in  tones  that  sounded  sweet  to  his  ears. 

Love  flooded  his  heart  with  a  passionate  tenderness  not  to  be 
repressed,  and  drawing  the  child  close  to  his  bosom,  he  held 
her  there  for  a  long  time.  Then  he  kissed  her  fondly,  answer- 
ing, as  he  laid  her  back  upon  the  bed, 

"  Oh  yes  !  I  will  love  you." 

A  heavenly  smile  lit  up  the  face  of  Gentle  Hand,  and  her 
eyes  were  bright  as  stars. 

The  words  that  Lady  Margaret  had  spoken,  "  I  think  she  is 
an  angel,"  made  a  deep  impression  on  Lord  Hubert.  As  he 
stood  looking  down  upon  her,  a  soft  light  seemed  to  spread 
over  and  around  her  face,  and  all  the  features  to  change  into 
lineaments  of  beauty.  The  tender  reverence  felt  for  her  a 
litde  while  before  grew  stronger,  and  when  Lady  Margaret 
said,in  a  low  voice,  "She  has  been  sent  to  us  from  heaven,"  he 
felt  that  it  was  so. 

On  the  next  morning,  as  Carl,  the  eldest  son  of  Lord  Hu- 
bert, was  coming  down  the  great  stone  staircase  that  led  to  the 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND.  3 1 

hall,  he  saw  his  Httle  sister  Lilli  on  one  of  the  landings,  sittino- 
by  the  side  of  a  strange  child.  Now,  Carl  was  a  born  tyrant, 
and  never  let  an  opportunity  for  oppressing  or  annoying  any 
one  pass  unimproved.  The  sight  of  a  poor  litde  hunchback 
with  a  pale,  unlovely  face,  instead  of  touching  his  heart  with 
pity,  filled  him  with  an  evil  desire  to  give  her  pain. 

"  Ho !"  he  cried,  in  a  harsh,  cruel  voice,  and  springing 
down  the  stairway,  stood  in  front  of  the  children,  grinning  and 
frowning  at  them  by  turns,  and  trying  to  frighten  the  little 
stranger. 

"  Go  away,  Carl,  you  bad  boy !"  said  Lilli  as  she  jumped  up 
and  stood  between  her  brother  and  Gentle  Hand. 

"  Oh  what  a  fright !  Where  did  she  come  from  ?  Who  is 
she  ?  I'll  get  a  cage  and  show  her  off  like  a  bear  or  an  ape." 
And  Carl,  as  he  said  this,  took  hold  of  Lilli  and  tried  to  push 
her  away,  so  that  he  might  come  close  up  to  Gende  Hand. 

But  Lilli,  gende  and  sweet  as  she  was  by  nature,  had  a  brave 
young  heart,  and  now  that  her  cruel  brother  talked  of  putdng 
this  poor  litde  stranger  into  a  cage,  all  fear  left  her,  and  she 
stood  bravely  in  front  of  Gende  Hand,  and  resisted  the  efforts 
of  Carl  to  thrust  her  aside.  Then  he  grew  very  angry,  and 
his  loud  voice  rang  up  the  stairway  and  along  the  halls,  reach- 
ing even  to  the  chamber  where  his  father  lay  sleeping,  and 
arousing  him  from  slumber.  In  vain  were  all  dear  litde  Lilli's 
brave  efforts  to  protect  Gende  Hand  from  the  rude  assaults  of 
her  brother.  Carl,  maddened  by  her  resistance,  dragged  her 
fiercely  away,  and  threatened  to  fling  her  down  the  stairs. 

Frightened  more  for  Gende  Hand  than  herself,  Lilli,  as  soon 


32  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

as  she  could  get  free  from  Carl,  ran  wildly  to  her  father's  cham- 
ber, and  as  she  flung  open  the  door  cried, 

"  Oh  come  !  Come  quickly  !  Carl  is  going  to  put  a  poor 
little  lame  girl  in  a  cage.     Oh,  don't  let  him,  for  she's  good." 

Then  Lord  Hubert  knew  that  it  was  Gentle  Hand  of  whom 
Lilli  spoke,  and  he  ran  out  into  the  hall  and  across  to  the  stair- 
way. All  was  silent  now.  Lord  Hubert  bent  over  the  balus- 
trade, and  looking  down,  saw  a  sight  that  made  his  heart  leap 
and  then  tremble  down  into  a  strange  stillness.  Carl  stood,  as 
fixed  as  a  statue,  just  in  front  of  the  child,  looking  upon  her 
with  a  tender  surprise  in  his  face.  She  had  reached  out  one 
of  her  hands,  that  lay  sofdy  on  one  of  his.  Lady  Margaret 
was  by  his  side  looking  down  also  at  the  group  below  them. 

"  The  eood  God  has  sent  an  ancrel  into  our  house,"  she  whis- 
pered  as  she  gazed  upon  Lord  Hubert  with  tearful  eyes. 

Lord  Hubert  did  not  answer,  but  went  back  to  his  chamber, 
saying,  in  his  heart, 

"  It  must  be  an  angel." 

And  now  a  new  feeling  came  into  his  heart,  and  he  was  able 
to  perceive  in  goodness  a  beauty  and  desirableness  never  seen 
before.  As  he  thought  of  the  power  that  lay  in  the  touch  of 
this  child,  his  wonder  increased.     What  could  it  all  mean  ? 

The  power  of  a  strong  right  arm  wielding  a  sword,  a  spear 
or  a  battle-axe  was  something  he  could  understand.  But  here 
was  a  mystery  that  baffled  him,  and  the  more  he  thought  about 
it,  the  more  he  was  puzzled.    , 

Below  all  this  wonder  and  bewilderment  lay  a  sense  of 
pleasure  so  new  to  Lord  Hubert  that,  as  he  thought  of  it,  won- 


WONDERFUL  STORY  OF  GENTLE   HAND.  33 

der  had  a  fresh  increase.  A  state  of  feeling  had  been  born  in 
his  soul,  which,  every  time  the  image  of  Gentle  Hand  grew 
distinct  in  his  mind,  moved  him  with  a  strong  impulse  to  better 
things. 

"Tell  me  all  you  know  about  this  Gentle  Hand,"  he  said  to 
Ladv  Maroraret,  and  she  told  him  all  she  knew — how  she  had 
heard  strange  stories  about  a  child  with  such  a  wonderful 
touch  that  it  not  only  made  every  one  love  her,  but  changed 
anger  into  gentleness,  and  how  she  had  gone  a  long  way  to 
see  this  child,  and  found  everything  she  had  heard  about  her 
true. 

And  Lord  Hubert  said :  ''  It  is  well.  If  she  bring  love  and 
peace  to  our  castle,  then  is  she  sent  of  God." 

Never  had  Lady  Margaret  seen  him  so  softened,  or  heard 
him  speak  after  this  manner. 

*'  It  is  a  wonderful  hand,"  Lord  Hubert  said,  speaking  as  if 
to  himself  '*  I  can  feel  it  now,  sweet  In  its  touch  as  a  strain  of 
music  to  the  ear,  and  as  penetrating  to  the  soul.     Hark !" 

A  jangle  of  harsh  voices  rang  through  the  hall — children's 
voices,  in  which,  louder  than  the  rest,  were  those  of  Carl  and 
Helen.  A  shadow  of  pain  fell  over  the  face  of  Lady  Margaret, 
and  one  of  anger  over  that  of  Lord  Hubert,  who  strode  out 
from  his  chamber  and  down  the  great  stairway  to  the  hall 
below,  where  he  found  Carl,  Helen  and  Ursula  in  a  fierce 
quarrel.  Carl  had  a  heavy  whip  In  his  hand,  and  had  just 
raised  the  large  end  to  strike  Ursula,  when,  swift  and  silent  as 
a  bird,  Gende  Hand  came  flying  in  among  the  angry  children, 
and,  before  Lord  Hubert  could  spring  forward  and  grasp  the 


34  WONDERFUL  STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

arm  of  Carl,  had,  by  a  touch,  made  it  weak  for  any  cruel  work 
as  an*  infant's. 

Over  the  boy's  face  there  spread  a  blush  of  shame,  and  he 
said  to  Gentle  Hand, 

"  I  was  only  in  play." 
"  And  Gentle  Hand  answered  him, 

"Don't  even  pretend;  it  is  so  dreadful  to  be  angry  and 
cruel." 

A  deep  silence  and  peace  fell  on  parents  and  children  as 
they  stood  in  the  great  hall,  looking  at  the  pale,  shrunken, 
deformed  child,  and  all  the  eyes  that  looked  upon  her  were  full 
of  love. 

One  day,  not  long  after  Gentle  Hand  came  to  the  castle. 
Lord  Hubert  got  into  a  great  rage  at  Lady  Margaret  for  some- 
thing she  had  said  or  done.  When  he  was  in  a  passion  he 
always  became  violent,  and  sometimes  gave  cruel  blows.  On 
this  occasion  he  stormed  about  in  a  threatening  way,  and  Lady 
Margaret  was  in  terror  at  his  wild  passion.  No  one  was  near 
them  except  Lilli,  their  youngest  child,  a  sweet  litde  tender- 
hearted girl. 

Lilli  looked  frightened  at  first,  but  in  a  moment  or  two  the 
fear  went  out  of  her  face.  Then  there  came  over  it  a  calm, 
serious  expression,  and  she  went  up  to  her  father  as  she  had 
seen  Gende  Hand  do,  and  laid  on  him  one  of  her  litde  palms 
that  touched  him  as  softly  as  a  snow-flake. 

Whether  there  was  a  heavenly  magnetism  in  Lilli's  touch,  as 
in  that  of  Gende  Hand,  or  whether  the  act  only  surprised  her 
father,  I  cannot  tell,  but  Lord  Hubert's  anger  died  out  on  the 


THE    RUINED    CASILE. 


See  pa_i^c  132. 


t;    *■  ,  a.     _,    »     o  -It, 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND.  2)7 

instant.  The  dark  blood  that  reddened  his  face  went  back  to 
his  heart  and  left  it  almost  pale.  He  stood  for  a  few  moments 
like  one  who  had  been  stunned  by  some  unforeseen  shock. 
Then  bending  to  Lilli,  he  lifted  her  in  his  arms  and  held  her 
closely  against  his  breast. 

"An  angel  has  been  long  with  us  and  we  knew  it  not,"  he 
said  as  he  laid  Lilli  in  her  mother's  arms,  passing  her  the  child 
as  a  peace-offering. 

A  new  joy  and  a  new  wonder  were  born  in  Lady  Margaret's 
heart  as  she  took  the  child,  murmuring  as  she  did  so,  "My  own 
Gende  Hand!"  A  litde  while  after  she  said,  looking  tenderly 
into  her  husband's  face, 

"  Love  is  sweeter  than  wrath." 

"What  mean  you?"  he  answered. 

Lady  Margaret  lifted  one  of  his  hands,  and  kissing  it,  said 
again, 

"  Love  Is  sweeter  than  wrath." 

Then  her  meaning  penetrated  his  thought,  and  a  new  light 
broke  upon  him. 

"This  is  sweeter,"  he  replied  as  he  kissed  her  lips  and 
cheeks  with  a  fervor  she  had  not  known  for  many  long  years. 
Wildly,  passionately,  were  the  arms  of  Lady  Margaret  thrown 
about  her  husband's  neck,  and  wildly,  passionately,  as  In  the 
far-off  time  when  he  had  wooed  and  won  her  as  his  bride,  did 
he  return  her  lovine  caresses. 

A  new  and  better  life  was  born  in  the  heart  of  Lord  Hubert 
from  that  moment.  He  felt  the  first  movings  of  higher  Im- 
pulses and  nobler  desires. 

I 


38  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

"  It  is  a  great  mystery,"  he  said,  speaking  to  Lady  Margaret. 
"I  cannot  make  it  out." 

"The  good  God  has  sent  an  angel  into  our  house,"  answered 
Lady  Margaret,  "  for  only  an  angel  could  work  so  great  a  mir- 
acle. Once — it  is  long  ago — I  heard  an  old  monk  tell  my 
father  that  a  time  would  come  when  the  lion  would  lie  down 
with  the  lamb  and  a  little  child  lead  them,  and  that  time  must 
be  coming  now." 

*'  It  is  all  very  wonderful,"  said  Lord  Hubert.  "  I  cannot 
understand  it.  How  can  the  light  touch  of  a  child's  hand  have 
such  mighty  power?" 

"Good  wishes  have  power  in  good  acts,"  said  Lady  Mar- 
garet. "The  will  and  the  deed  must  go  together,  and  it  is 
the  hand  that  does  the  good  deed.  Without  the  hand  the  will 
has  no  power." 

Lord  Hubert  mused  for  a  long  time,  then  replied, 

"A  little  light  comes  into  my  mind,  and  yet  I  see  but 
dimly." 

"See  w^hat?"  inquired  Lady  Margaret. 

"  See  that  love  may  be  sweeter  than  anger,  kindness  better 
than  cruelty  and  good  deeds  nobler  than  violence." 

"Oh,  my  husband!"  exclaimed  Lady  Margaret  in  joyful  sur- 
prise, laying  her  head  on  his  bosom.  A  litde  while  she  was 
silent,  then  looking  up  into  Lord  Hubert's  face,  she  asked, 

"Who  is  noblest?" 

He  did  not  answer. 

"God  is  noblest,"  said  Lady  Margaret,  speaking  low  and 
reverently. 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND.  39 

"  Yes,  noblest  of  all,"  replied  Lord  Hubert. 

**No  prince  is  so  powerful,"  continued  Lady  Margaret. 

"  None,"  said  her  husband. 

"Nor  so  honored  and  revered,  and  yet  he  is  good  to  all, 
and  kind  even  to  the  unthankful  and  the  evil." 

Lord  Hubert  answered  only  with  a  long-drawn  sigh. 

"To  be  truly  great  must  we  not  be  godlike?"  asked  Lady 
Margaret.  "  Princes  and  nobles  are  lifted  above  the  people 
and  have  power  over  them — power  for  good  and  power  for 
evil.  They  can  be  cruel  and  oppressive,  filling  the  land  with 
violence,  or  wise  and  good,  covering  it  with  peace.  Which  is 
best?     Which  is  noblest?" 

*'To  cover  the  land  with  peace,  my  gentle  Margaret,"  an- 
swered Lord  Hubert. 

''  Alas  for  the  people  that  our  prince  is  cruel,  an  evil  man 
and  full  of  violence !"  said  Lady  Margaret,  wondering  within 
herself  at  her  boldness  of  speech,  for  her  husband  was  a  great 
favorite  with  the  prince,  and  had  long  been  a  man  after  his  own 
heart. 

Lord  Hubert  did  not  answer,  and  Lady  Margaret  began  to 
fear  that  she  had  offended  him,  and  to  tremble  in  her  heart 
lest  his  anger  should  break  forth  into  passionate  words  or  per- 
haps blows. 

At  this  moment  there  came  floating  in  upon  them  from  afar 
off  the  clear,  rich  notes  of  a  buele. 

"It  is  the  prince,"  exclaimed  Lord  Hubert,  starting  up. 
The  countenance  of  Lady  Margaret  flushed  and  then  grew 
pale,  while  a  troubled  look  setded  in  her  eyes. 


40  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

"  Is  he  coming  to  our  castle  ?"  she  asked. 

''  Yes.  There  is  to  be  a  grand  hunt  in  the  forest.  I  had 
forgotten  to  tell  you." 

All  now  was  hurry  and  excitement.  Soon  the  prince,  with 
nobles,  servants  and  retainers,  came  dashing  up  to  the  casde 
gate,  and  entering,  filled  the  courtyard  with  men  and  horses 
richly  dressed  and  gay  with  plumes  and  trappings. 

"Welcome,  my  prince!"  was  the  greeting  of  Lord  Hubert, 
who  was  proud  of  the  honor  conferred  by  this  visit.  Lady 
Margaret  received  him  with  courtesy  and  deference,  yet  with  a 
coldness  she  was  not  able  to  conceal. 

"  My  lady  is  not  warm  in  her  welcome,"  said  the  prince  as 
he  held  the  hand  of  Lady  Margaret  and  looked  boldly  into  her 
eyes.     "  How  now  ?     What  does  it  mean  ?" 

"Our  prince  is  always  welcome,"  answered  Lady  Margaret, 
and  then  asked, 

"Is  the  young  prince  here  ?" 

A  handsome  boy,  tall  and  graceful,  with  large,  proud-looking 
eyes,  came  forward  and  was  warmly  greeted  by  Lady  Margaret, 
while  the  prince  looked  on  half  pleased  and  half  annoyed. 

And  now  all  was  changed  in  and  around  the  castle.  Its  dull 
quiet  gave  way  to  sounds  of  mirth  and  revelry,  to  the  tramping 
and  clanging  of  horses'  feet  and  the  tumult  of  voices. 

On  the  morning  of  the  second  day,  that  on  which  the  grand 
hunt  was  to  begin,  there  came  a  lady  to  the  casUe  and  asked 
to  see  the  prince.  When  this  was  told  him,  he  frowned  heavily 
and  denied  the  lady  an  audience.  The  truth  was,  the  prince 
had  had  a  quarrel  with  the  lady's  husband,  a  noble  of  the  land, 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND.  4^ 

and  had  violently  seized  his  castle  and  given  it  to  one  of  his 
favorites. 

But  the  lady  refused  to  leave  the  castle  until  she  could  get 
audience  with  her  sovereign.     Then  the  prince  demanded  of 
Lord  Hubert  that  she  should  be  thrust  out  and  driven  away. 
But  Lord  Hubert's  heart  had  been  touched  by  softer  impulses, 
and  he  was  seeing  in  a  new  a.nd  better  light.     His  prince  was 
wrong;  he  knew  it  and  felt  it.     And  so  he  ventured  to  speak 
in  favor  of  the  lady  and  her  husband.     At  this  the  anger  of  th 
prince  burned  hotly,  and  there  was  danger  of  a  sudden  quarrel 
between  him  and  Lord  Hubert,  for  both  were  fierce  and  un- 
governable when  ruled  by  passion.     Lady  Margaret  saw  the 
rising  storm,  and  vainly  tried  with  gentle  words  to  draw  from 
the  clouds  of  wrath  that  darkened  their  souls  the  fierce  ligh'^ 
ning  that  was  just  ready  to  leap  out  in  consuming  flames.     A 
feud  between  her  husband  and  the  prince  would,  she  knew,  be 
bitter  and  terrible. 

A  few  of  the  prince's  favorites  drew  closer  around  him  with 
dark  and  scowling  faces,  ready  to  draw  their  swords  at  a  word, 
while  as  many  of  Lord  Hubert's  friends  and  retainers  ranged 
themselves  on  his  side. 

At  this  a  wild  cry  of  fear  and  pain  broke  from  the  lips  of 
Lady  Margaret — a  cry  so  full  of  anguish  that  it  thrilled  every 
heart,  and  made  the  fiercest  pause  on  the  threshold  of  strife. 
The  echoes  of  this  cry  had  scarcely  died  along  the  halls,  and 
all  was  yet  hushed  in  a  deep  silence,  when  the  sound  of  litde 
feet  was  heard  coming  swiftly  up  the  great  stairway,  pattering 
like  the  fall  of  sudden  rain,  and  a  moment  afterward  a  weird- 


42  WONDERFUL  STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

looking  child,  with  large,  tender,  startled  eyes,  came  hastily  into 
the  midst  of  this  company  of  angry  men,  each  of  whom  stood 
with  his  hand  on  his  sword-hilt,  ready  for  the  shedding  of 
blood. 

"  Oh,  Gentle  Hand !"  exclaimed  Lady  Margaret,  in  a  tone  of 
such  strange  meaning  that  every  one  gazed  at  the  child  in 
wonder,  except  the  prince,  on  whose  countenance  disgust 
mingled  with  cruel  passion. 

"Take  her  away!"  he  cried,  with  angry  impatience,  but 
scarcely  had  he  spoken  ere  the  child's  hand  was  laid  sofdy  on 
one  of  his  hands,  and  he  stood  very  still,  with  swift  changes  of 
feeling  trembling  over  his  stern  face  and  smoothing  away  its 
savage  lines.  As  if  a  vision  had  suddenly  come  before  him 
did  he  stand  gazing  down  at  the  face  upturned  to  his.  And 
now^  taking  courage  and  hope,  Lady  Margaret  spoke  out  in  a 
sweet,  firm  voice,  saying, 

"  Oh,  my  prince,  love  is  sweeter  than  anger,  kindness  better 
than  cruelty  and  good  deeds  nobler  than  violence  !" 

Those  who  heard  this  speech  trembled  as  they  looked  at  the 
prince,  expecting  an  answer  full  of  stormy  wrath  at  language 
so  bold  and  so  rebuking.  But  strange  to  tell,  the  swift  changes 
of  his  countenance  went  on  as  he  stood  with  the  child's  hand 
still  resting  on  one  of  his  hands,  until  it  lost  every  trace  of 
sternness  and  evil  passions,  and  became  gentle  almost  as  a 
loving  woman's.  Then  he  stooped,  and  lifdng  the  child  in  his 
arms,  said, 

"  What  is  your  name  ?" 

*'  1  am  Elsie,"  she  answered,  "  but  they  call  me  Gende  Hand." 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND.  43 

The  prince  looked  at  her  small  hands,  stroking  them  with  his 
own,  and  then  laid  one  of  them  against  his  face,  toying  with  it 
in  a  fond  sort  of  way. 

*'  It  is  a  witch-child !"  exclaimed  a  fierce  noble,  and  drew  his 
sword. 

"A  witch-child!"  cried  two  or  three  others,  beginning  to 
crowd  around  the  prince  with  angry  scowls  on  their  faces. 

"An  angel-child,"  answered  Lady  Margaret,  speaking  in 
deep,  impressive  tones.  "Put  up  your  swords,  my  lords. 
They  are  for  the  enemies  of  your  prince,  not  for  the  mes- 
senger Heaven  sends  to  him  on  an  errand  of  mercy." 

The  hands  of  the  fierce  nobles  dropped  weakly  to  their 
sides,  and  they  stood  looking  on  with  wonder-marked  faces. 

Then  the  lady  who  had  come  to  ask  justice  pressed  into  the 
midst,  and  kneeling  before  the  prince,  caught  one  of  his  hands, 
and  bowing  her  face  upon  it,  cried, 

"  Oh,  my  prince,  be  just  and  merciful !" 

A  thing  happened  then  that  was  so  strange  to  the  men  of 
violence  who  stood  around  the  prince  that  they  were  in  amaze- 
ment. When  had  he  shown  pity,  or  weakly  consented  to  res- 
titution ?  But  now,  bending  with  princely  grace,  he  said  to  the 
lady, 

"Arise,  true  wife  of  a  brave  and  noble  baron!  Courage 
and  devotion  like  yours  shall  have  their  reward.  I  restore 
castle  and  lands,  rank  and  privileges,  and  let  no  man  gainsay 
my  word." 

At  this  the  Lady  Margaret  spoke  out  in  clear  tones,  repeat- 
ing the  sentence  uttered  a  little  while  before  : 


44  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

*'  Oh,  my  prince,  love  is  sweeter  than  anger,  kindness  better 
than  cruelty  and  good  deeds  nobler  than  violence !" 

Then  the  prince  turned  to  her  and  answered  in  a  subdued 
voice, 

"  It  hath  been  proven  to  me  this  day." 

And  now  all  the  bold  men  of  his  retinue  came  closer  to  the 
prince,  and  one  and  another  touched  the  child  he  still  held  in 
his  arms,  and  to  all  a  new  life  seemed  to  pass.  The  stern 
lines  of  their  faces  softened,  their  eyes  had  gender  meanings 
in  them,  and  they  spoke  to  each  other  in  a  language  that  was 
almost  as  new  as  a  foreign  tongue,  so  full  was  it  of  kindness 
and  gentleness. 

We  said  all  the  bold  men  of  the  prince's  retinue,  but  there 
was  one  exception.  The  favorite  to  whom  the  prince  had 
given  the  castle  and  lands  he  now  restored  was  so  full  of  rage 
and  disappointment  that  he  could  scarcely  restrain  himself. 
Lord  Hubert  saw  the  pent-up  anger  of  this  man,  and  knew 
that  he  would  resist  his  prince  and  stir  up  strife  among  the 
people.  In  the  wild  freedom  of  the  chase  for  which  they  had 
assembled,  all  the  bad  passions  now  under  control  might  leap 
into  active  life  and  kindle  the  fires  of  anger  and  hate,  and 
when  these  are  once  kindled  no  man  knoweth  when  they  will 
be  put  out,  nor  when  destruction  and  sorrow  will  cease. 

And  so  Lord  Hubert,  while  yet  the  child  was  in  their  midst, 
and  while  the  heavenly  sphere  surrounding  her  yet  penetrated 
the  souls  of  all  and  softened  and  humanized  their  feelings, 
spoke  out  and  said : 

"  Most  honored  prince,  and  you,  brave  nobles  of  the  land,  we 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND.  45 

have  fallen  upon  something  new  and  strange.  Hitherto,  in 
bright  swords  and  strong  arms  only  have  we  seen  the  emblems 
of  power.  But  to-day,  in  the  touch  of  a  little  child,  we  find 
these  to  be  as  nothincr.  The  anorer  of  our  hearts,  which  has 
been  used  to  burn  as  a  consuming  fire,  dies  out  at  her  breath. 
What  does  it  mean?  I  think  we  have  in  our  midst  a  messen- 
ger from  the  great  God  whose  subjects  we  are,  and  who  holds 
our  lives  every  moment  in  his  hands.  Without  him  we  are 
nothing.     Let  us  be  wise  and  prudent,  and  consider  this  thing. 

"  Most  honored  prince,  and  you,  brave  nobles  of  the  land,  we 
are  met  for  a  ^rand  hunt  in  the  forest— for  a  wild,  fierce  revel. 
Let  us  do  another  and  a  better  thing.  Let  us  hold  a  council 
to  consider  the  welfare  of  our  people.  We  are  lifted  above 
them,  and  have  power  over  them  for  good  or  for  evil.  We  can 
be  cruel  and  oppressive,  filling  the  land  with  violence,  or  wise 
and  good,  covering  it  with  peace.  Which  is  best?  which  is 
noblest?" 

**  To  cover  the  land  with  peace !"  spoke  out  Lady  Margaret 
in  the  silence  that  followed. 

Then  the  prince  bowed  to  her  graciously,  and  thus  answered 
her  husband : 

"  Let  it  be  as  my  lords  and  barons  shall  say — a  hunt  or  a 
council." 

And  in  all  that  assemblage  of  bold  men  whose  lives  had  been 
spent  in  acts  of  violence  and  wrong  not  one  spoke  against  a 
council. 

*'It  is  well,"  answered  the  prince.  *' We  will  hold  a  council, 
and  for  a  new  thing  under  the  sun.     Not  to  consider  how  we 


46  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

may  further  oppress  and  wrong-  our  people,  but  how  we  may 
help  them  and  do  them  good — not  to  decide  questions  of  war 
and  violence,  but  questions  of  peace  and  good-will." 

Then  the  council  met  in  order  in  the  great  hall  of  the  castle, 
and  continued  for  two  days,  and  for  most  of  the  time  Gentle 
Hand  sat  near  the  prince,  and  often,  when  some  noble  spoke 
up  fiercely  and  the  prince  was  moved  by  sudden  anger,  the 
hand  of  the  child  would  rest  softly  upon  him,  and  then  the  evil 
fire  would  go  out  in  his  eyes  and  the  anger  from  his  counte- 
nance. 

The  doings  of  this  council  were  memorable  in  the  land.  A 
new  and  better  day  dawned  upon  the  people.  Courts  of  justice 
were  established  at  which  the  humblest  could  bring  his  cause. 
The  poor  and  the  weak  were  cared  for  and  protected.  Roads 
were  cut    throuorh  dense  forests  and    across   mountains,   and 

o 

bridges  built  over  impassable  streams.  Nobles  vied  with  their 
prince  and  each  other  in  giving  benefits  to  the  people.  And 
they  were  all  so  much  happier  that  even  the  men  of  violence 
wondered  at  and  approved  the  change. 

Gentle  Hand  went  home  with  the  prince  to  his  royal  palace. 
Thus  it  happened.  After  the  second  day  of  the  council  had 
closed,  and  while  the  prince,  with  nobles  and  retainers,  was  in 
the  great  banqueting-hall  of  the  castle  at  dinner,  two  of  the 
nobles,  being  heated  with  wine,  got  into  a  quarrel  and  drew 
their  swords  upon  each  other.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  prince 
commanded  them  to  put  up  their  swords.  They  heeded  him 
not,  so  fiercely  burned  their  anger  against  each  other. 

''  Where  is  Gentle  Hand  ?"  he  asked  of  Lady  Margaret,  who 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND.  47 

sat  by  his  side.    Already  he  had  learned  to  reverence  and  trust 
in  her  wonderful  power  to  subdue  human  passions. 

Even  as  the  prince  asked  for  the  child,  she  came  swiftly  into 
the  banqueting-room,  and  went  bravely  up  to  the  two  angry 
men,  laying  a  hand  upon  each  and  lifting  her  bright  but  soft 
and  steady  eyes  to  their  faces.  She  did  not  speak  a  word,  but 
looked  at  them  steadily.  Slowly  the  upraised  swords  went 
down,  and  arms  that  a  moment  before  thrilled  with  a  giant's 
strength  were  weak  for  evil  deeds  as  a  child's. 

Then  the  prince  rose  up  and  said  to  Lord  Hubert,  before  all 
the  company, 

"  A  gift  so  wonderful  must  be  from  Heaven,  and  for  the  good 
of  all  our  people." 

Lord  Hubert  bowed,  but  did  not  answer,  for  he  knew  what 
was  in  the  prince's  thought. 

"  Shall  not  the  blessing  lifted  to  your  castle  from  a  wood- 
man's hut  have  a  still  wider  sphere  of  influence,  and  go  forth 
from  our  palace  to  the  whole  land?" 

Even  as  the  prince  said  this,  Gende  Hand  came  and  stood 
close  to  his  side,  and  seeing  her,  he  stooped  down  and  lifted 
her  tenderly  and  reverently  in  his  arms. 

''  I  will  do  no  wrong,"  continued  the  prince,  looking  at  Lord 
Hubert  and  Lady  Margaret;  "I  will  not  take  her  without  your 
consent ;  but  for  the  good  of  our  people  I  ask  that  she  may 
dwell  in  the  palace." 

And  all  who  were  present  urged  warmly  the  prince's  re- 
quest. 

Very  hard  was  it  for  Lord  Hubert  and  Lady  Margaret  to  give 


48  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

up  the  wonderful  child,  but  they  knew  that  if  she  dwelt  with  the 
prince  in  his  palace  it  would  be  better  for  all  the  people,  and 
that  which  was  good  for  all  would  be  good  for  each,  whether 
he  were  noble  or  peasant. 

And  so  Gende  Hand  was  taken  from  Lord  Hubert's  castle 
to  the  palace  of  the  prince. 

Now  the  princess  was  a  proud  and  haughty  woman,  and  her 
life  with  the  prince  was  not  a  happy  one.  Often  there  was 
strife  between  them.  When  the  prince  returned  bringing 
Gende  Hand  with  him,  he  had  the  child  taken  into  the  royal 
chamber,  where  his  wife  sat  among  her  maidens,  and  placing 
her  in  the  midst,  he  said : 

"  I  have  brought  you  a  gift  from  Heaven,  my  gracious  lady !" 

Then,  as  the  princess  looked  at  the  deformed  child,  with  its 
pinched,  unlovely  face,  she  grew  hot  with  anger,  for  she 
thought  it  an  insult.  But  the  prince  said,  with  unwonted  gen- 
tleness, as  he  lifted  the  child  in  his  arms, 

"  I  have  spoken  truly.     It  is  a  gift  from  Heaven." 

And  now  one  and  another  came  round  the  prince  curiously, 
and  looked  at  the  child,  but  the  princess  stood  at  a  distance 
with  a  frownincr  brow.  As  one  of  the  maidens  leaned  close  to 
Gende  Hand  the  child  touched  her.  All  who  were  looking 
saw  a  quick  motion  of  surprise  in  her  countenance.  Then  she 
held  out  her  hand  and  took  the  child  and  drew  it  toward  her 
with  a  loving  gesture. 

"What  mummery  is  this?"  exclaimed  the  princess,  in  anger. 
*'  Give  me  the  child  !" 

Almost  rudely  she  caught  Gende  Hand  from  her  maiden's 


WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  flAND.  49 

arm.  As  she  did  so,  all  saw  the  anger  die  out  of  her  face  and 
a  look  of  wonder  spread  over  it.  Then,  as  if  her  strength  had 
departed,  she  sat  down,  still  holding  the  child,  and  gazing  upon 
it  in  mute  surprise. 

"  What  does  it  mean,  my  lord  ?"  she  said,  looking  up  at  the 
prince. 

"  A  good  gift  from  Heaven,  sent  as  a  blessing  to  us  and  to 
our  people,"  answered  the  prince.  "  Her  name  is  Gentle  Hand, 
and  there  is  more  power  in  her  softest  touch  than  in  the  arm 
of  our  bravest  knight." 

At  this  moment  the  young  prince,  who  had  returned  with  his 
father,  dashed  into  the  chamber  in  a  furious  passion,  followed 
by  a  younger  brother,  with  whom  he  had  already  quarreled. 

Quick  as  thought  Gentle  Hand  slipped  from  the  arms  of  the 
princess  and  was  at  the  side  of  the  young  prince.  A  soft 
touch  of  her  small  hand,  and  the  raging  boy  stood  motionless 
as  a  statue,  all  the  dark  passion  going  out  of  his  face.  Then 
he  stooped  and  kissed  her  with  a  brother's  loving  kiss,  saying 
as  he  did  so, 

''  I  am  glad  you  are  going  to  live  in  the  palace." 

Such  wondering  looks  as  sat  upon  the  faces  of  the  princess 
and  her  maidens  were  never  seen  before. 

And  now  a  stranger  thing  happened.     As   they  all   stood 

looking  at  the  thin,   pinched,   weird  face  of  Gentle   Hand,  its 

straight  lines  seemed  to  bend  in  curves  of  beauty  and  the  soft 

flesh  to  take  a  rounder  fullness  on  lips  and  cheeks.     The  great 

humps  on  her  back  and  breast  seemed  to  grow  smaller,  and  her 

neck  and  head  to  lift  themselves  more  gracefully  above  her 
4 


50  WONDERFUL   STORY  OF  GENTLE  HAND. 

shoulders.  All  signs  of  homeliness  faded  out  of  her  counte- 
nance, and  to  the  charmed  eyes  that  now  gazed  intently  upon 
her  she  looked  beautiful. 

From  this  day  forth  the  marvelous  change  went  on.  Softer 
and  rounder  grew  the  lines  of  beauty  in  her  face,  and  smaller 
and  smaller  the  unsighdy  hump  on  her  shoulders  and  back, 
until  at  last  she  stood  straight  and  tall,  as  beautiful  in  form  and 
features  as  the  loveliest  princess  in  all  the  land. 

All  hearts  drew  toward  her,  and  as  by  her  heavenly  power 
she  ruled  all  hearts,  she  became  through  that  power  the  ruler 
and  dispenser  of  good  to  all  the  people,  though  they  knew  it 
not,  nor  saw  the  sign  of  her  power,  but  gave  honor  and  praise 
and  gratitude  to  their  prince,  who  governed  so  justly  and  with 
such  a  wise  and  generous  regard  for  their  welfare. 

As  years  passed  on,  and  Gende  Hand  grew  toward  woman- 
hood, she  grew  more  and  more  lovely. 

The  fame  of  her  beauty  and  goodness  spread  far  and  near, 
and  princes  and  nobles  came  to  the  palace  to  ask  for  her  hand. 
But  Eric,  the  young  prince,  was  deeply  in  love  with  her,  and  to 
him  she  gave  her  heart,  and  they  were  married. 

There  was  never  a  grander  or  a  happier  wedding  than  the 
wedding  of  Gende  Hand  and  the  young  Prince  Eric,  and  there 
was  never  a  happier  people  than  the  people  of  that  land  when, 
on  the  death  of  Eric's  father,  the  prince  and  Gende  Hand  came 
to  rule  over  them. 


THE    SgUlKRKL    HUNT. 


THE  SQUIRREL  HUNT. 


GRAY  squirrel  was  busy  one  pleasant  autumn  day 
in  o-atherine  nuts  and  storinor  them  up  for  winter  in 

^^#  the  hollow  of  an  old  tree.  A  farmer  was  chopping 
W^f/  wood  not  far  off,  and  his  axe  rang  loudly  through  the 
S8^  forest,  but  this  sound  did  not  trouble  our  squirrel,  for 
he  had  heard  it  often  before,  and  knew  that  it  meant  no  harm 
for  him. 

But  there  came  other  sounds  on  the  air — children's  voices 
and  the  barking  of  a  dog.  At  this  the  squirrel  started  in 
alarm.  The  children  saw  him  and  gave  a  loud  shout,  and  the 
two  dogs  that  were  with  them  went  tearing  after  the  frightened 
animal,  making  the  woods  ring  with  their  fierce  yelpings. 

The  dogs  were  so  close  upon  the  poor  squirrel  when  he  saw 
them  that  escape  seemed  almost  impossible.  But  close  by 
there  lay  a  hollow  log,  and  into  this  he  darted  just  as  one  of 
the  does  was  about  seizing^  him. 

''  We've  got  you  now,  old  fellow !"  cried  the  children  as  the 
dogs  sprang  into  the  hollow  of  the  tree  to  seize  the  squirrel. 
But  Squirrel  was  not  so  easily  caught.  He  was  smaller  than 
the  dogs,  and  could  go  in  a  great  deal  farther  to  keep  out  of 

53 


54  THE  SQUIRREL   HUNT. 

their  reach.  The  dogs  barked  and  yelped  and  growled,  but  it 
was  of  no  use.     Squirrel  was  safe  from  their  teeth. 

And  now  the  farmer  came  up  with  his  axe,  and  seeing  how 
it  was,  said  to  the  children  and  dogs : 

"  Just  keep  off  a  minute  and  I'll  get  him.'* 

And  so  he  raised  his  sharp  axe  and  began  cutting  down  into 
the  log. 

What  was  that  which  struck  him  a  smart  tap  on  his  head  ? 
Only  a  nut,  dropped  by  Mr.  Squirrel  from  the  tree  above  him 
where  he  sat  looking  down  far  away  from  danger.  Squirrel 
had  been  in  that  log  many  a  time  before,  and  knew  just  how  to 
get  out  of  it  at  the  other  end.  He  had  whisked  through  like  a 
flash,  and  was  springing  up  into  the  tree  at  the  very  moment 
when  the  dogs  were  looking  for  him  in  the  dark  hollow  of  the 
log. 

The  farmer  cut  away  with  his  axe,  not  heeding  the  nut  that 
fell  upon  his  head,  but  when  he  had  laid  the  log  open  from  end 
to  end  no  squirrel  was  to  be  found. 

You  are  glad  Squirrel  got  away.  I  can  see  It,  children,  in 
the  pity  and  gladness  that  beam  from  your  eyes. 


NEDDY   HARRIS, 


E'VE  had  a  good  time,  Tony,  old  fellow !  haven't 
we?"  said  Neddy  Harris,  who  was  beginning  to 
feel  tired  with  his  half  day's  ramble  in  the  woods 
and  fields.  And  as  he  said  this  he  sat  down  on  a 
''^^^^  hill-side  that  overlooked  a  pleasant  valley,  and  from 
which  he  could  see  the  clusters  of  elms  and  maples  that  stood 
around  his  home. 

Tony  replied  to  his  young  master  by  a  short  bark  and  a 
knowing  twist  of  his  waggish  little  head,  which  was  as  near  as 
he  could  come  to  saying,  ''A  first-rate  time,  Master  Neddy!" 
And  then  he  seated  himself  also,  and  took  a  survey  of  the 
country  spread  out  beneath  them.  He  looked  very  wise  and 
very  sharp,  as  though  he  had  charge  of  everything,  and  was  on 
the  watch  to  see  that  nothing  went  wrong.  What  kind  of 
fancies  played  through  his  doggish  brain  I  cannot  tell,  but  I 
think  they  had  something  to  do  with  the  supper  that  awaited 
his  arrival  home. 

*'  A  grand  good  time  !"  added  the  boy  as  his  tired  limbs  felt 
the  comfort  of  a  soft  resting-place  on  the  green  turf.  "  And 
now,"  he  continued,  "  as  father  says  we  should  always  do,  I'll 


55 


56 


NEDDY  HARRIS. 


just  go  back  and  think  over  what  I've  done  this  holiday- 
afternoon,  and  if  I  forgot  myself  in  anything,  and  went  wrong, 
it  will  be  best  for  me  to  know  it,  so  that  I  can  do  better  next 
time." 

So  Neddy  turned  his  thought  backward,  and  read  out  of  the 
book  of  his  memory  what  had  been  written  down  there  by  an 
Invisible  pen  during  the  past  few  hours.     Now,  this  book  of 


memory  is  a  very  wonderful  book.  Did  you  ever  think  of  it  ? 
Every  instant  of  time  in  which  we  are  awake,  and  often  when 
asleep,  an  invisible  penman  is  writing  in  it  every  one  of  our 
thoup-hts  and  actions,  good  or  bad,  and  we  have  no  power  to 


olot  out  the  writing. 


NEDD  V  II A  RRIS.  5  7 

"  I'm  sorry  about  that  poor  squirrel,"  said  Neddy.  "  He 
never  did  me  any  harm.  What  a  beautiful  little  creature  he 
was,  with  his  bright  black  eyes  and  shiny  skin  !" 

And  the  boy's  face  grew  sad,  as  well  it  might,  for  he  had 
pelted  this  squirrel  with  stones  from  tree  to  tree,  and  at  last 
knocked  him  to  the  ground,  when  Tony,  with  one  grip  of  his 
sharp  teeth,  made  an  end  of  him. 

"I  don't  blame  Tony,"  said  the  boy.  "  He's  only  a  dog,  and 
doesn't  know  any  better.  But  it  was  so  cruel  in  me !  Now, 
if  I  live  a  hundred  years,  I'll  never  harm  another  squirrel. 
God  made  these  frisky  little  fellows,  and  they've  just  as  much 
rioht  to  live  as  I  have." 

Neddy  felt  better  about  the  squirrel  after  this  good  reso- 
lution, which  he  meant  to  keep. 

"That  was  curious  about  the  spider,"  he  went  on,  trying  to 
push  all  thoughts  of  the  dead  squirrel  from  his  mind.  Let  me 
tell  you  about  this  spider.  In  the  corner  of  a  fence  Neddy  saw 
a  large  circular  spider's  web,  shaped  like  a  funnel,  down  in  the 
centre  of  which  was  a  hole.  As  he  stood  looking  at  the  deli- 
cate thing,  finer  than  any  woven  silk,  a  fly  struck  against  it  and 
got  his  feet  tangled,  so  that  he  could  not  escape.  Instantly  a 
great  black  spider  ran  out  of  the  hole  at  the  bottom  of  the 
web,  and  seizing  the  poor  fly,  dragged  him  out  of  sight  and 
made  his  dinner  off  him. 

"Try  what  you  can  do  with  this,  you  old  black  land-pirate  !" 
exclaimed  Neddy,  who  pitied  the  fly,  although  he  had  just 
helped  his  dog  Tony  to  kill  a  harmless  squirrel,  and  all  for 
sport.     But,  as  we  have  seen,  he  was  sorry  for  that  cruel  act, 


58  NEDDY  HARRIS. 

and  we  only  mention  it  here  to  show  how  quick  we  are  tc 
blame  others  and  forget  our  own  wrong-doings.  As  Neddy 
spoke,  he  dropped  a  piece  of  dry  bark  about  the  size  of  his 
thumb  nail  into  the  web,  and  it  slipped  down  and  covered  the 
hole  through  which  the  spider  had  to  come  for  his  prey.  In- 
stantly the  piece  of  bark  was  pushed  up  by  the  spider,  who 
came  out  of  his  den  and  ran  around  on  the  slender  cords  of 
his  web  in  a  troubled  kind  of  way.  Then  he  tried  to  get  back 
into  his  hidden  chamber,  but  the  piece  of  bark  covered  the 
entrance  like  a  shut  door.  And  now  Mr.  Spider  was  in  a 
terrible  flurry.  He  ran  wildly  up  one  side  of  his  web  and 
down  another ;  then  he  tugged  at  the  piece  of  bark,  trying  to 
drag  it  out,  but  its  rough  edges  took  hold  of  the  fine  silken 
threads  and  tore  them. 

"  You'll  catch  no  more  flies  in  that  web,  old  chap !"  said 
Neddy  as  he  stood  watching  the  spider. 

But  Neddy  was  mistaken.  Spider  did  not  belong  to  the 
give-up  class.  If  the  thing  could  not  be  done  in  one  way,  it 
might  in  another.  He  did  not  reason  about  things  like  human 
beings,  but  then  he  had  instinct,  as  it  is  called,  and  that  teaches 
animals  how  to  get  their  food,  how  to  build  their  houses  or 
make  their  nests,  and  how  to  meet  the  dangers  and  difficulties 
that  overtake  them  in  life.  After  sitting  still  for  a  little  while, 
spider  went  to  work  again,  and  this  time  in  a  surprising  way. 
He  cut  a  circle  close  around  the  piece  of  bark  as  neatly  as  you 
could  have  done  it  with  a  pair  of  sharp  scissors,  and,  lo  !  it 
dropped  to  the  ground,  leaving  a  hole  in  the  web  about  the  size 
of  a  ten-cent  piece. 


NEDDY  HARRIS.  59 

''Rather  hard  on  the  web,  Mr.  Land-pirate !"  said  Neddy, 
laughing.  "  FUes  can  go  through  there  as  well  as  chips." 
When  he  called  the  spider  a  land-pirate,  Neddy  was  wrong. 
He  was  no  more  a  pirate — that  is,  one  who  robs  and  murders 
— than  is  the  woodpecker  and  swallow,  for  they  feed  on  worms 
and  insects.  The  spider  was  just  as  blameless  in  his  work  of 
catching  and  eating  flies  as  was  Neddy's  white  bantam  when 
she  went  off  into  the  fields  after  grasshoppers. 

But  Neddy's  laugh  at  the  spider  was  soon  cut  short.  The 
most  difficult  part  of  his  work  was  done  when  he  got  rid  of 
the  piece  of  bark.  As  soon  as  that  was  out  of  his  way,  he 
began  moving  backward  and  forward  over  the  hole  he  had 
cut  in  the  web,  just  as  if  he  were  a  weaver's  shuttle,  and  in 
about  ten  minutes  it  was  covered  with  gauzy  lacework  finer 
than  ever  was  worn  by  a  queen. 

"I'll  give  it  up,  old  fellow!"  exclaimed  Neddy,  taking  a  long 
breath  as  he  saw  the  work  completed.  "  This  just  beats  me 
out !"  Spider  crept  down  into  his  den  again  to  wait  for  an- 
other fly,  and  Neddy,  whistling  to  Tony,  went  on  his  way 
pleased  and  wondering. 

"  I'm  glad  I  didn't  take  the  eggs  out  of  that  hanging  bird's- 
nest,"  Neddy  said  to  himself  as  he  sat  thinking  over  what  he 
had  done  during  his  afternoon's  holiday.  "  I  wanted  to  so 
badly,  but  then  I  thought  of  the  dear  little  birds  that  would  be 
hatched  if  I  left  them  in  the  nest.  An  ^g^  is  a  pretty  thing, 
but  what  is  an  eesf  to  a  bird?  all  alive  and  so  beautiful !  And 
I'm  glad  I  put  up  Farmer  Glenn's  bars  that  somebody  left 
down.      He  mio-ht  have  had  ever  so  much  trouble  about  his 


6o  NEDDY  HARRIS. 

cattle.  I  wasn't  going  to  do  It  at  first,  for  I  said,  '  It's  none  of 
my  business.'  But  then  I  remembered  hearing  father  say  once 
that  it  was  everybody's  business  to  be  kind  and  thoughtful  of 
their  neighbors,  and  to  see  that  no  harm  came  to  them  that  we 
could  help.     And  father's  always  right  about  these  things." 

So  Neddy  talked  on  with  himself,  until  he  had  gone  over  all 
he  had  done  durine  his  afternoon  in  the  woods  and  fields.  For 
the  stone  he  threw  at  a  frog  he  was  sorry.  "  It  didn't  hit  him, 
and  I'm  glad  of  that,"  he  said,  by  way  of  comfort.  For  the 
pail  of  water  he  drew  from  the  well  for  a  poor  old  woman  who 
looked  too  weak  to  turn  the  wheel,  and  for  the  lamb  he  had 
taken  back  to  the  field  from  which  it  had  strayed,  he  felt  well 
satisfied  with  himself 

"  It's  the  good  we  do  that  makes  us  happy,  father  says,  and 
the  wrong  we  do  that  makes  us  unhappy.  And  now  I  under- 
stand just  what  he  means.  If  it  had  not  been  tor  killing  that 
dear  little  squirrel  I'd  go  home  feeling  all  right,  but  that  wor- 
ries me.  Now,  Tony  !"  And  he  sprang  from  the  ground,  and 
ran  swiftly  down  the  hill,  as  if  trying  to  flee  away  from  all 
thoughts  of  the  dead  squirrel. 

Neddy  Harris  was  one  of  your  well-meaning  boys  who 
wished  to  do  right,  and  if  he  found  himself  wrong,  he  was 
sorry  for  it,  and  tried  to  do  better  next  time. 


Play  is  a  help,  not  a  hindrance,  to  study.  But  then  play  and 
study  must  each  have  its  own  time.  The  trouble  with  some 
boys  is  that  they  wish  to  play  in  study  hours. 

Neddy  Harris  was  as  fond  of  play  as  any  one,  and  when  he 


NEDDY  HARRIS.  6 1 

did  play,  it  was  in  earnest.  He  took  his  full  measure  of  enjoy- 
ment. And  he  was  able  to  do  this  because  his  mind  was  free 
from  all  thought  about  lessons.  He  never  dropped  his  ball  in 
the  midst  of  his  play,  as  I  have  seen  some  boys  do,  and  ex- 
claim, 

*' Oh  dear!  I  haven't  got  one  word  of  my  lessons  yet,  and  I 
shall  be  kept  in  again  to-morrow  if  I  miss  a  line,"  and  then 
scamper  off  home  to  the  drudgery  instead  of  the  pleasure  of 
study. 

"  You  don't  call  study  a  pleasure !"  I  hear  a  little  reader  say, 
in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

Why  not?     Isn't  eating  a  pleasure? 

''  Eating !"  You  look  amazed,  my  little  friend,  as  if  I  were 
half  in  jest.     But  I  am  not. 

"What  has  eating  to  do  with  studying?"  you  ask,  looking 
serious,  because  you  see  that  I  am  in  earnest.  Did  you  never 
hear  of  food  for  the  mind  ? 

"  Oh  yes,"  you  say,  in  ready  answer. 

Well,  what  is  food  for  the  mind?  Now  you  look  just  a  trifle 
puzzled.  But  it's  all  as  plain  as  day,  if  you  will  think  for  a 
moment.  There's  your  little  sister.  A  year  ago  she  could 
just  stand  alone ;  now  she  runs  about  and  goes  up  and  down 
stairs  almost  as  easily  as  you  can.  How  does  it  happen  that 
she  has  grown  larger  and  stronger  ?  All  is  easily  explained. 
She  has  had  food  to  eat,  and  this  food  has  been  turned  into 
blood  and  flesh  and  bone,  making  her  bigger  and  stronger  day 
by  day. 

But  something  else  has  happened,  and  I  want  to  hear  your 


62  NEDDY  HARRIS. 

explanation  of  that.  A  year  ago  her  mind  was  so  feeble  that 
she  only  understood  the  meaning  of  a  few  words ;  now  she 
talks  quite  plainly,  and  thinks  as  well  as  talks.  In  fact,  her 
mind  has  grown  as  well  as  her  body.  Now,  what  made  her 
mind  grow?  Not  the  food  that  went  into  her  mouth.  That 
couldn't  have  done  it.  Dogs  and  cats  eat,  but  their  minds 
don't  grow.  They  never  become  wise  like  men  and  women. 
Her  mind  grew  from  what  she  learned.  That  is  the  explana- 
tion. The  knowledge  of  things  was  her  mental  food,  and  to 
know  or  learn  was  to  eat  this  mental  food.  And  I  think  you 
will  say  that  she  often  took  as  much  delight  in  eating  the  food 
that  made  her  mind  grow  as  she  did  in  eating  the  food  that 
made  her  body  grow.  Don't  you  remember  how  eagerly  she 
listened  when  you  told  her  about  the  birds  building  nests  and 
laying  litde  speckled  eggs  in  them,  out  of  which  came  dear 
litde  birds  not  so  big  as  young  chickens  ?  You  were  feeding 
her  mind  then,  and  she  enjoyed  the  taste  of  the  food  you  gave 
her  as  much  as  she  ever  enjoyed  her  bread  and  milk. 

'T  never  thought  of  that!"  you  say,  a  pleasant  light  falling 
over  your  face. 

There  are  a  great  many  interesting  things  passing  in  us  and 
around  us  all  the  while  of  which  we  can  know  nothing  unless 
we  stop  to  think.  Let  me  ask  you  another  question.  Have 
you  never  felt  as  much  pleasure  in  reading  about  the  wonder 
ful  things  of  nature  as  your  little  sister  felt  when  you  told  her 
of  the  birds,  their  eggs  and  their  litde  ones  ? 

"Oh  yes,"  you  say;   "hundreds  of  times." 

A  book  is  your  delight.     Why?     Because  it  gives  food  to 


NEDDY  HARRIS. 


63 


your  mind,  and  for  no  odier  reason.  But  study  !  Ah,  it  is  the 
task- work  that  you  don't  like.  No  one's  fault  but  your  own, 
I'm  thinking,  that  study  has  become  task-work.  You  might 
make  it  a  pleasure,  if  you  would. 


But  In  my  desire  to  help  you  to  see  that  there  ought  to  be 
as  much  pleasure  in  learning  as  in  eating,  I  have  kept  my 
young  friend,  Neddy  Harris,  out  of  sight,  and  I  must  now  go 
back  to  him  again.  As  I  have  told  you  before,  he  liked  play 
as  well  as  study,  and  there  was  not  a  boy  in  his  class  who 
enjoyed  a  game  at  ball  or  cricket,  or  a  half-day's  ramble  in  the 
woods,  better  than  he.  He  let  his  heart,  as  we  say,  go  Into 
whatever  he  did,  and  that  is  the  true  secret  of  success  or 
enjoyment. 


64  NEDD  Y  HARRIS. 

Neddy  had  finished  all  his  lessons  for  the  next  day,  except 
the  one  on  Physiology.  He  was  studying  that,  and  really  en- 
joying the  information  it  gave  him  about  the  way  In  which  the 
blood  enters  the  heart  on  the  right  side,  and  passes  from  one 
chamber  to  another  by  valves  that  open  and  shut,  going  into 
the  lungs  and  again  back  Into  the  heart,  and  then  by  heart- 
throbs sent  leaping  In  pulsations  all  over  the  body,  when  the 
door  of  his  room  was  thrown  open,  and  Harry  Brown,  a  class- 
mate, cried  out, 

"  Come,  Neddy  !  we're  going  to  have  a  game  of  base  ball 
over  in  Mr.  Bloomer's  field.  Hurry!  The  boys  are  making 
It  up  now." 

"  I  can't  until  I've  got  my  Physiology  lesson,"  Neddy  an- 
swered, speaking  firmly. 

"  Faugh  !  Let  Physiology  go  to  the  dogs  !"  answered  Harry 
Brown.  ''  I  haven't  got  mine  yet,  nor  my  Latin  lesson,  either, 
as  to  that;  so  come  along." 

"Study  first  and  play  afterward,"  answered  Neddy.  "That's 
my  rule,  and  It's  never  good  to  break  rules,  father  says.  It's 
always  sure  to  get  us  into  trouble." 

"You  can  get  this  lesson  just  as  well  in  the  evening,"  urged 
Harry. 

"No,  I  can't.  To-night's  our  reading-night.  Father  reads 
aloud  three  evenings  in  the  week,  and  I  wouldn't  miss  the  part 
of  the  book  we're  orolncr  to  have  to-night  for  half  a  dozen 
games  of  base  ball,  much  as  I  like  to  play." 

"Oh,  well!  Stick  to  your  lesson,  then!  A  fellow  can't  turn 
you  any  more  than  he  can  turn  the  wind,"  said  Harry,  rather 


NEDDY  HARRIS.  65 

impatiently.  "I'll  have  my  fun,  at  any  rate,  and  you  can  dig 
and  delve  at  your  Physiology  till  doomsday  if  you  like.  I  hope 
you  may  have  a  good  time  over  it." 

And  bounding  out  of  the  room,  Harry  Brown  ran  off  to  join 
his  playmates  in  a  game  of  ball. 

When  deeply  interested  in  anything,  we  scarcely  think  of 
time.  The  minutes  glide  by  unnoticed.  It  was  nearly  an  hour 
after  his  schoolmate  left  when  Neddy's  father  opened  the  door 
of  the  library  and  found  him  sitting  over  his  book.  The  lesson 
was  just  finished,  and  Neddy  lifted  a  face  that  beamed  with 
satisfaction.  It  had  been  no  mere  task-work  with  him,  this 
hour's  study,  but  a  season  of  refreshment  for  his  mind.  He 
had  learned  something  about  his  own  body  that  filled  him  with 
wonder  and  delight.  Now,  when  he  laid  his  hand  over  his 
heart  and  felt  its  steady  throb,  he  understood  something  of 
what  was  oroine  on  in  the  hidden  chambers  of  life. 

"  I  am  going  to  drive  over  to  Milford  this  afternoon,  my  son," 
said  Mr.  Harris.  'Tf  you  have  all  your  lessons,  I  shall  be  glad 
of  your  company." 

''I'm  just  through,"  answered  Neddy,  shutting  his  book, 
''and  I  should  like  to  go  over  to  Milford  above  all  things.  Will 
you  stay  there  long  enough  for  me  to  see  the  glass-works?" 

'T  shall  be  there  at  least  an  hour." 

"I'm  so  glad!  Yes,  thank  you,  I'll  go  along."  And  Neddy 
ran  up  to  his  room  to  make  a  few  needed  changes  in  his  dress. 

I  am  very  sure  that  Harry  Brown  did  not  enjoy  his  game  at 
base  ball  half  so  much  as  Neddy  enjoyed  his  hour  among  the 
glass-blowers,  for    Neddy's  mind  was   not  burdened  with  the 


66  NEDDY  HARRIS. 

thouo-ht  of  unlearned  lessons,  but  free  to  enter  with  delight  into 
whatever  was  new,  strange  and  interesting.  How  different  all 
would  have  been  if,  yielding  to  Harry,  he  had  broken  his  rule 
of  "  study  first  and  play  afterward  "  !  The  game  would  not  have 
been  half  enjoyed  for  thinking  of  the  lesson  yet  to  be  learned, 
and  the  lesson  learned  in  the  evening  wouldn't  have  been  half 
enjoyed,  because  while  studying  it  his  father  would  be  reading 
the  pleasant  book  he  could  not  hear.  And  to  make  all  worse 
would  be   the  thought  that  he  had  been  a  weak  and  foolish 

boy. 

On  the  next  day  all  of  his  lessons  were  said  perfectly,  but 
Harry  Brown  had  learned  his  so  badly  that  he  was  kept  in 
during  the  half-hour's  recess. 

Sadly  poor  Harry  gazed  from  the  schoolhouse  window  as 
the  boys  played  on  the  green.  Neddy  was  with  them,  one  of 
the  happiest  of  the  number.  There  was  not  the  smallest  bur- 
den on  his  free  spirit.  Study-hours  had  been  .spent  in  study, 
and  now  he  ran  and  jumped  and  shouted  with  the  rest,  no 
shadow  of  care  or  regret  dropping  down  from  a  passing  cloud 
of  thought  to  dim  his  enjoyment. 


"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  Mr.  Harris  of  Neddy, 
who  came  out  of  the  house  with  a  basket  on  his  arm  one 
Saturday  morning.     There  was  no  school  on  that  day. 

''To  pick  up  scraps  of  iron  and  nails  down  by  the  old  mill," 
replied  Neddy. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  scraps  of  iron  and  nails?" 
said  Mr.  Harris.  * 


NEDDY  HARRIS,  6/ 

"Sell  them.     They're  worth  two  cents  a  pound." 

"Ah,  indeed.  But  what  put  that  idea  into  your  head,  my 
son?" 

"  I'm  saving  up  money  to  buy  a  line  and  reel.  Will  Martin 
told  me  that  he  picked  up  enough  old  iron  in  a  few  weeks  to 
sell  for  three  dollars.  So  I'm  going  to  try  what  I  can  do.  I 
found  two  old  horseshoes  and  an  iron  bolt  yesterday  that 
weigh  nearly  two  pounds.  I  look  closely  at  the  ground  as  I 
walk  along,  and  I  don't  let  even  an  old  nail  escape  me." 

A  smile  lit  up  the  face  of  Mr.  Harris  for  a  moment,  and 
then  he  looked  grave. 

"  And  so,"  he  said,  "  for  the  sake  of  a  few  old  nails  and 
horseshoes,  you  turn  your  eyes  away  from  the  pleasant  trees 
and  fields,  from  the  river  and  the  sky,  from  all  the  beauty  of 
nature.  You  do  not  read  a  single  sentence  in  the  great  book 
about  which  we  have  talked,  giving  up  all  for  a  penny's  worth 
of  old  iron." 

"  Oh,  father  !"  exclaimed  Neddy  as  he  let  the  basket  drop 
from  his  hand,  "  you  have  such  a  way  of  putting  things,  as 
our  teacher  says  !  I  thought  it  was  all  right,  and  that  when  you 
knew  about  it  you  would  be  pleased.  I'm  sure  it's  better  to 
pick  up  old  bits  of  iron  and  have  them  worked  over  again 
than  to  let  them  lie  useless  on  the  roadside." 

"Of  course  it  is, provided  always  that  the  person  doing  this 
little  bit  of  useful  work  does  not  neglect  something  of  more 
importance.  If  one  can  be  better  employed  than  in  gathering 
up  old  iron,  then  it  is  waste  time  to  engage  in  this  sort  of 
business." 


6S 


NEDDY  HARRIS. 


Neddy's  eyes  fell  to  die  ground.     He  saw  diat  his  fadier  was 
right,  and  yet  all  was  not  clear  to  him. 

•'  I  might  be  better  employed  in  reading  than  in  searching 


about  at  the  old  mill  for  scraps  of  iron,"  he  said,  ''  but  then  it's 
a  holiday,  and  you  think  it  best  for  me  to  be  out  of  doors  as 
much  as  possible.     If  I  can  get  exercise  and  old  iron  at  the 


NEDDY  HARRIS.  69 

same  time,  what's  the  harm  ?  I  want  money  to  buy  a  Hne  and 
reel,  and  I  don't  see  any  other  way  to  get  it." 

"So  we  have  it  all  in  a  nutshell,  as  they  say,"  remarked  Mr. 
Harris.  "And  now  let  us  examine  it  carefully.  We  should 
always  try,  in  earning  money,  to  give  the  best  service  of  which 
we  are  capable.  Any  of  the  poor  little  boys  and  girls  whose 
parents  live  in  the  shanties  across  the  meadows  can  pick  up  old 
iron  and  nails  as  well  as  you,  but  there  is  not  one  of  them 
able  to  render  the  higher  service  in  your  power  to  give.  They 
could  not  add  up  a  column  of  figures,  nor  make  out  a  bill,  nor 
teach  a  child  to  write  and  cipher.  Mr.  Josslyn  the  storekeeper 
would  not  trust  one  of  them  to  ride  over  to  Milford  to  buy 
things  for  him,  or  to  pay  or  collect  a  bill.  Yet  you  could  do 
any  of  these  things." 

"  Oh,  father,"  said  Neddy,  growing  excited,  "  do  you  think 
that  Mr.  Josslyn  would  like  to  have  me  go  over  to  Milford  for 
him?" 

"I  shouldn't  wonder.  His  young  man  is  sick,  and  I've  no 
doubt  he  would  be  glad  of  a  little  help  of  some  kind,  for 
Saturday  is  usually  a  busy  day  with  him.  And  I'm  sure  that 
two  or  three  hours  spent  in  helping  Mr.  Josslyn,  if  you  wish  to 
employ  a  part  of  the  time  in  earning  a  little  money,  would  be 
a  great  deal  better  than  picking  up  old  iron,  and  give  you  a 
large  return  of  pennies,  as  well  as  satisfaction  of  mind." 

"  I'll  run  right  over  and  see  Mr.  Josslyn,"  said  Neddy. 

"  What  will  you  say  to  him  ?"  asked  his  father. 

"  Oh,  let  me  see."  And  Neddy  thought  for  a  few  moments. 
"Why,  I'll  just  say  it  as  it  is :  '  Mr.  Josslyn,  I  want  to  earn  some 


70  NEDDY  HARRIS. 

money  to  buy  a  line  and  reel,  and  if  you   want  any  help,  I'll 
come  and  work  for  you  part  of  the  day.'  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  that  will  do.  It's  the  simple  truth,"  replied  his 
father. 

And  so  it  happened  that  Mr.  Josslyn  wanted  some  one  that 
he  could  trust  to  ride  over  to  Milford  and  transact  several  items 
of  business.  Two  persons  living  there  owed  him  small  bills 
which  they  had  promised  to  settle  on  this  very  day ;  besides,  he 
wanted  to  order  some  glass  and  several  other  things  that  could 
be  had  at  Milford. 

He  knew  Neddy  very  well,  and  was  just  as  glad  to  get  the 
service  offered  as  Neddy  was  to  render  it. 

It  took  our  young  friend  just  three  hours  to  ride  over  to  Mil- 
ford and  back.  He  did  not  look  down  all  the  way  for  old  nails 
and  horseshoes,  but  enjoyed  the  sight  of  woods  and  fields  and 
sparkling  w^ater,  the  songs  and  sportings  of  birds,  and,  best 
of  all,  his  own  thoughts  about  what  he  saw. 

''Thank  you,  my  litde  man,"  said  the  storekeeper,  when 
Neddy  returned  with  the  money  he  had  collected.  "You  have 
done  me  a  real  service."  And  he  paid  him  a  dollar  and  a 
half. 

"Oh,  that's  too  much,"  exclaimed  Neddy  as  he  looked  at  the 
money. 

"If  you  are  satisfied,  I  am,"  said  Mr.  Josslyn.  "And  what  is 
more,  I  will  be  glad  to  see  you  on  next  Saturday." 

''  Better  than  old  iron,"  said  Neddy  as  he  showed  the  money 
to  his  father. 

"  And  there's  something  better  still,"  remarked  Mr.  Harris. 


YOUNG   SOLDIER. 


See  pa [^e  141 


5     «jO 


1    i?   - 


NEDDY  HARRIS.  J^ 

**  What?"     Neddy  looked  up  at  his  father. 

"  You  are  wiser  as  well  as  richer." 

*' Wiser?     How?" 

"  You  have  learned  some  things  about  the  difference  in  work — 
how  some  kinds  are  more  useful  than  others." 

*'  Oh  yes.  Picking  up  old  iron  may  be  well  enough  for  boys 
that  live  in  the  shanties  across  the  meadow,  but  it  would  be 
wasting  time  for  me.  I  can  do  better  and  higher  kinds  of 
work." 

''  Better  and  higher  because  it  is  more  useful,"  said  Mr.  Har- 
ris. *'In  the  mere  work  of  gathering  up  lost  or  cast  away 
things  no  one  is  helped.  There  is  no  double  good.  A  few 
pennies  or  dollars  are  earned  by  the  person  who  does  this 
work,  but  the  work  itself  helps  no  one.  How  different  when 
we  help  another  in  what  we  do,  as  in  your  case  to-day!  You 
may,  if  you  will,  have  as  much  pleasure  in  thinking  of  the 
service  rendered  Mr.  Josslyn  as  of  the  money  you  earned." 

On  the  next  Saturday  the  storekeeper  was  very  glad  to  see 
Neddy  again,  who  helped  him  for  a  few  hours,  and  received  a 
dollar  for  his  service.  He  had  money  enough  now  to  buy  the 
line  and  reel  he  had  set  his  heart  on,  and  the  following  Satur- 
day started  off  alone  for  a  day  in  the  woods  among  the  trout 
streams. 

He  came  home  several  hours  before  his  father  expected  to 
see  him,  without  rod  or  reel,  or  the  basket  of  speckled  trout  he 
had  promised. 

"What's  the  matter,  my  son?"  asked  Mr.  Harris.  ''Where's 
your  fishing-tackle?  and  what  brought  you  home  so  early?" 


74  NEDD  V  HARRIS. 

'Til  just  tell  you  all  about  it,"  said  Neddy.  "The  fact  iS; 
I've  changed  my  mind  about  fishing." 

"  Have  you,  indeed?     Why,  how  did  this  come  about?" 

''  I'm  going  to  tell  you.  I  felt  as  light  and  happy  as  a  bird 
when  I  started  off  this  morning.  At  first  I  thought  of  Ellis 
River,  but  afterward  changed  my  mind  and  went  to  Mountain 
Brook.  It  was  a  good  hour's  walk.  How  lovely  the  water 
seemed  !  So  clear  and  still  in  the  quiet  places  ;  so  bright  and 
sparkling  when  it  rushed  between  or  leaped  over  rocks.  All 
was  beautiful,  and  I  felt  so  happy.  I  looked  down  into  the 
water,  and  remembered  your  saying  that  it  was  like  truth  to 
the  mind,  satisfying  thirst  and  cleansing  from  impurity.  I  saw 
the  little  minnows  gliding  about ;  the  white  pebbles  at  the  bot- 
tom ;  the  tiny  caverns  and  the  smooth  sandy  places.  A  bird 
came  down  to  drink  close  by  where  I  stood,  dipped  its  bill  into 
the  water  a  few  times,  and  then  with  a  chirrup  flew  off  among 
the  trees.  For  a  litde  while  I  forgot  what  I  had  come  for. 
Then  I  unwound  my  reel,  fixed  my  line,  and  made  ready  for 
the  sport  I  had  so  long  promised  myself. 

"  The  very  first  time  my  fly  touched  the  water  there  was  a 
leap  at  one  of  the  hooks,  and  then  a  fish  struggled  at  the  line. 
I  can't  tell  you  just  how  I  felt,  it  came  so  suddenly.  But  before 
I  could  land  him  he  broke  away.  For  more  than  half  an  hour 
after  that  I  threw  my  line,  sometimes  going  up  stream  and 
sometimes  down,  but  without  a  bite.  At  last,  as  I  dropped  my 
hooks  lightly  over  a  rapid  piece  of  water,  a  small  trout  caught 
at  one  of  them  and  fastened  himself.  I  drew  him  easily  to  the 
shore,  and  as  I  removed  the  hook  from  his  mouth  the  blood 


NEDDY  HARRIS.  75 

ran  over  my  hand.  I  could  not  help  a  shiver  as  I  saw  it.  And 
yet  I've  fished  a  great  many  times. 

"  Poor  little  trout !  He  trembled  and  struggled  in  my  hand, 
and  gasped  for  the  water  that  to  him  was  like  air.  He  was 
slender  and  beautifijlly  speckled,  and  as  I  looked  at  him,  pity 
came  into  my  heart.  So  I  just  put  him  back  into  the  water  and 
let  him  go.  I  couldn't  help  it,  father.  Oh,  I  was  so  glad  when 
I  saw  him  dart  away !" 

Neddy  paused,  and  looked  up  into  his  father's  face. 

''And  what  then?"  asked  Mr.  Harris. 

"  I  sat  down  to  think,"  replied  Neddy.  ''  Or,  I  might  better 
say,  the  thoughts  that  came  into  my  mind  made  me  sit  down." 

"What  kind  of  thoughts  were  they?" 

"A  new  kind  of  thoughts  to  me,  but  they  were  right 
thoughts:  I'm  pretty  sure  of  that.  It  seemed  as  if  somebody 
were  talking  inside  of  me.  The  first  thought  was  a  question, 
and  came  in  these  very  words:  'Is  it  right  to  take  pleasure  in 
giving  pain?'  Then  this  question  followed :  'Has  God  given 
us  so  few  things  to  enjoy  that  we  must  kill  the  fish  and  shoot 
the  birds  for  sport  ?'  '  But  we  eat  the  fish,'  I  answered  to 
myself.  'Were  you  so  hungry  that  you  had  to  come  out  here 
to  get  food  ?'  was  asked.  What  could  I  say  to  that  but  '  No'  ? 
I  had  only  come  for  pleasure,  and  I  was  to  find  that  in  torturing 
and  killing  the  happy  trout  sporting  and  feeding  in  the  pure 
water  where  God  had  placed  them.  Turn  it  over  in  my  mind 
as  I  would,  I  was  not  able  to  see  it  any  differently.  If  I  had 
been  hungry  and  in  need  of  food,  or  if  I  had  been  poor  and 
obliged  to  fish  for  a  living,  it  would  have  been  another  case. 


'Jti  NEDDY  HARRIS. 

But  to  kill  for  sport  is  certainly  not  godlike  and  angel-like,  as 
I've  heard  you  say. 

"So  you  see,  father,  I'm  cured  of  my  fishing  mania,  as  you 
called  it  the  other  day.  If  I  were  to  tell  the  boys  at  school, 
they'd  laugh  at  me,  but  I  can't  help  that." 

"There  is  no  need  of  your  talking  about  it,"  said  Mr. 
Harris. 

"But  if  I  am  right,  father,  why  shouldn't  I  talk  about  it?" 

"Very  true,  my  son." 

"There  is  nothing  in  it  to  be  ashamed  of,"  added  Neddy. 
"Boys  talk  about  their  robbing  birds'  nests,  throwing  stones  at 
frogs,  geese  and  pigs,  and  doing  other  mean  and  cowardly 
things,  and  because  the  older  boys  brag  over  their  cruel  acts, 
the  smaller  ones  follow  their  example.  Laughing  doesn't  hurt 
anybody.  I  guess  I  can  stand  a  litde  of  it.  If  I  don't  say 
what  I  think  about  a  thing,  as  to  whether  it  is  right  or  wrong, 
what  use  are  my  thoughts  to  any  but  myself?  And  you  say 
that  nobody  in  this  world  has  a  right  to  live  for  himself 
alone." 

"Spoken  like  a  brave  boy,  as  you  are,  Neddy!"  said  Mr. 
Harris,  with  so  pleased  a  tone  in  his  voice  that  it  made  the  lad's 
heart  glow.  "  As  to  the  sport  of  fishing,  you  will  find  plenty 
to  differ  with  you,  and  among  them  good  and  true  men.  But 
be  sure  of  this,  my  son,  that  every  voice  which,  speaking  to 
your  inward  ear,  warns  you  against  cruelty  to  any  living  thing, 
is  the  voice  of  an  angel,  and  that  if  you  hearken  obediendy 
to  that  voice,  you  will  come  under  purer  influences,  and  be 
better  able  to  meet  the  temptations  that  assail  every  one  in  the 


NEDDY  HARRIS. 


/  / 


journey  of  life.  At  your  age  I  was  very  fond  of  gunning  and 
fishing,  and  I  have  often  spent  days  in  the  wood  with  either 
my  rod  or  fowHng  piece.  But  once — I  had  grown  to  be  fifteen 
years  old — I  shot  a  blue  jay,  breaking  its  wing.  It  fell  from  the 
tree  where,  but  an  instant  before,  it  had  been  so  happy  in  its 
innocent  bird-life,  and  fluttered  in  pain  on  the  ground  only  a 
few  yards  from  where  I  stood.  As  I  picked  it  up,  and  saw  the 
bleedine  and  broken  wino^,  and  felt  the  blood  on  my  hand,  a 
thrill  of  pity  for  the  poor  suffering  bird  ran  through  my  heart. 
Could  a  load  of  buckshot,  shattering  my  shoulders  to  pieces, 
put  me  in  greater  agony  than  I  had  caused  this  harmless  jay? 
Shame  reddened  my  cheeks. 

"Poor  bird!  I  put  him  out  of  his  misery,  and  went  home, 
feeling  very  sober.  From  that  day,  my  son,  1  have  never  killed 
a  bird  nor  caught  a  fish.  When  I  needed  recreation  or  pleasure, 
I  found  plenty  of  ways  open  to  me  quite  as  satisfactory  and 
health-giving  as  shooting  and  fishing,  and  so  will  you.  But 
you  have  not  said  what  became  of  your  rod  and  line." 

"  I  sold  them,"  replied  Neddy.  "  Wasn't  it  curious  ?  As  I 
came  out  of  the  woods  over  by  Mr.  Reed's,  a  man  met  me, 
and  said, 

'"That's  a  nice  outfit,  my  lad.     What'll  you  take  for  it?' 

"  '  Three  dollars,'  I  answered,  without  stopping  to  think. 

"  '  It's  a  bargain,'  said  he,  taking  out  his  pocket-book,  and 
handing  over  three  dollars. 

"  '  You  are  perfectly  satisfied  ?'  he  added. 

'"Oh yes,  perfectly,'  I  replied,  'for  I  don't  mean  to  fish  any 
more.' 


7^ 


NEDDY  HARRIS. 


'"Why  not?'  he  asked. 

"'Because,'  said  I,  'the  sport  is  too  cruel  for  me.' 

"  If  you  could  have  seen  how  he  opened  his  eyes,  showing 
the  whites  all  around  them,  and  could  have  heard  the  long,  low 
whistle  he  gave,  you  would  have  laughed,  as  I  did. 

"'Good  for  you!'  he  said,  patting  me  on  the  shoulder,  and 
then  he  went  his  way  and  I  went  mine." 


ii-»^ 


^1/5^  Stooped   over  the  cradle 
J^^    and  kissed  her  baby  brother, 
'Jlp       "  and    I    do    love    him    so 
What  makes  him  so  sweet  ?" 

''His  purity  and  innocence.  There  is  nothing  in  all  this 
world  so  pure  and  innocent  as  a  baby,"  answered  Nelly's 
mother. 

"  Wasn't  God  very  good  to  let  us  have  him  ?"  asked  the  child. 

79 


8o  ONE   OF  BABY'S   TEACHERS. 

"  Oh  yes,  and  how  thankful  we  should  be  !" 

"I  am  thankful,  mamma.  Last  night,  when  I  was  saying  my 
prayers,  I  said  '  Thank  you.  Lord,  for  baby,'  and  I  said  it  again 
this  morning.     Do  you  think  he  heard  me  ?" 

"  Yes,  for  he  is  everywhere,  and  hears  and  sees  everything." 

''Then  he  knows  how  much  I  love  baby?" 

''  Yes  ;  he  knows  all  our  thoughts  and  feelings." 

"  All  of  our  bad  thoughts  as  well  as  our  good  ones  ?" 
,     "Yes,  dear.     He  knows  us  better  than  we  know  ourselves." 

"  I  don't  have  any  bad  thoughts  when  I'm  with  baby,"  said 
Nelly.  "And  if  I  feel  naughty,  it's  all  gone  w^hen  he  comes  in. 
Oh,  he's  so  sweet!  sweet!  sweet!"  And  she  bent  over  the 
cradle  again,  almost  smothering  the  baby  with  kisses. 

"And  he's  so  good  and  pure,"  added  the  mother.  "Now, 
shall  I  tell  you  how  we  can  best  show  our  thankfulness  to  God 
for  sending  us  the  baby?" 

Nelly  looked  up  earnestly,  and  waited  to  hear. 

"We  must  do  all  we  can  to  keep  him  sweet,  and  pure,  and 
good.  We  must  be  kind  and  gentle  in  all  our  ways  with  him. 
And  as  he  grows  older,  we  must  be  careful  what  we  say  or  do, 
for  we  will  be  his  teachers.  What  he  hears  us  say,  he  will  say, 
and  what  he  sees  us  do,  he  will  do.  Just  think,  darling,  of  his 
getting  angry  at  the  table,  as  you  did  this  morning,  and  throw- 
ing his  piece  of  bread  on  the  floor." 

"  Don't  talk  about  that,  mamma,"  said  Nelly,  her  face  getting 
sober  and  tears  coming  into  her  eyes. 

"  It  is  not  to  make  you  feel  badly,  dear,  that  I  speak  of  it," 
answered    Nellv's   mother.      "But   as  you    are   one   of .  baby's 


ONE   OF  BABY'S   TEACHERS.  51 

teachers,  I  must  put  you  on  your  guard.     How  did  he  learn  to 
kiss  his  hand  ?" 

"  I  kissed  my  hand  to  him  ever  so  many  times,  and  at  last  he 
could  do  it.  And  I  taught  him  to  squint  up  his  eyes  in  such  a 
funny  way.  See !"  Nelly  shut  her  eyes,  and  the  baby,  laugh- 
ing and  crowinof,  did  the  same. 

''  See,  Nelly  dear,  how  fast  he  is  beginning  to  learn  from  you. 
You  have  taught  him  to  kiss  his  hand  and  squint  up  his  eyes, 
and  do  ever  so  many  cunning  little  things,  but  don't,  if  you 
love  him  and  want  the  good  Lord  who  sent  him  to  us  that 
we  might  help  him  to  live  a  good  life  in  this  world,  and  become 
an  ano-el  in  heaven,  to  leave  him  to  our  care,  teach  him  by 
word,  or  look,  or  example,  anything  that  is  wrong.  If  he  hears 
you  speak  angrily,  or  sees  you  do  naughty  things,  he  will  do 
the  same,  for  the  litde  ones  have  everything  to  learn,  and  do 
just  what  they  see  us  do.  And  so,  darling,  if  baby  does  not 
keep  his  sweetness  and  innocence  while  a  baby,  it  will  be  our 
fault." 

''I  wish  I  could  always  be  good,"  said  Nelly,  ''but  I'm  afraid 
there  is  something  bad  in  me."  And  a  shadow  came  over  her 
little  face. 

"  There  is  something  bad  in  us  all,"  Nelly's  modier  replied. 
"  But  the  Lord  knows  about  it  a  great  deal  better  than  we  do, 
and  he  is  always  trying  to  help  us  to  do  good.  Now,  one  of 
the  ways  in  which  he  helps  us  is  to  lead  us  to  help  others.  If 
we  see  that  the  bad  in  us  hurts  others  as  well  as  ourselves — as 
the  bad  in  you,  if  you  let  it  come  out,  would  hurt  baby — then 
if  we  will  try  to  conquer  this  bad;  and,  while  trying,  ask  the 


82  ONE    OF  BABY'S   TEACHERS. 

Lord  to  help  us,  he  will  do  so,  and  put  good  into  our  hearts  in 
place  of  the  bad." 

"Oh,  mother,  will  he?"  A  light  like  sunshine  fell  over 
Nelly's  face. 

''  He  will,  darling." 

"  I'm  so  glad  !"  She  spoke  the  words  half  to  herself  Then 
taking  baby's  hand,  softer  than  any  velvet,  she  laid  it  against 
her  cheek,  and  murmured,  "  I'll  try  to  be  good  for  your  sake, 
sweetest !" 

After  that  no  mother  could  have  asked  for  a  better  child 
than  Nelly.  "  I  am  one  of  baby's  teachers,"  she  would  often 
say  to  herself,  when  tempted  to  do  wrong,  and  then,  for  baby's 
sake,  she  would  resist  the  wrong,  often  asking  God  to  help  her. 
And  he  did  help  her,  as  he  helps  every  one  who,  earnesdy  try- 
ing to  do  right,  prays  to  him  for  strength,  for  he  wants  us  to 
be  good  that  we  may  be  happy  and  live  with  him  for  ever  in 
heaven,  and  so,  the  moment  we  try  to  do  right,  he,  the  All- 
powerful,  comes  quickly  to  our  aid. 


EASTER    EGGS. 


^^M_  ISTER  GRACE !" 

:> -^l^^^         "What  do  you  want?"     Sister  Grace  did  not  lift 

f^ffe^    her  eyes  from  the  gay  embroidery  over  which  her 

i^^        finorers  were  swiftlv  moving. 

fe      "To-morrow's  Easter." 

"  Can't  you  tell  me  something  I  don't  know  ?"  was  the  reply — 
not  unkindly  spoken,  but  without  any  interest  in  the  sister's 
voice. 

"  Look  at  me,  Grace,  won't  you  ?" 

"  There  !  I'm  looking  at  you."  And  Grace  Bond  dropped  her 
hands  in  her  lap  with  a  slightly  annoyed  gesture  and  fixed  her 
eyes  on  the  child's  face. 

"  To-morrow's  Easter." 

"  I've  heard  that  before.     Anything  else  .^" 

"Yes:   I  want  you  to  dye  me  some  eggs." 

"  Dye  you  some  eggs  !" 

"Yes.  All  the  little  girls  are  going  to  have  them.  Jennie 
May  and  Lucy  White  told  me  about  the  beauties  they  had  last 
year,  and  what  lovely  ones  their  mother  was  going  to  dye  for 
them  to-day." 

.§3 


84 


EASTER   EGGS. 


"  I  must  bee  to  be  excused,  Fannie,"  said  Grace,  coldly. 

The  light  and  eagerness  went  out  of  the  child's  face,  and  her 
eyes  grew  wet  with  tears. 

'*  Don't  be  silly  !"  Grace  spoke  a  little  harshly.  "  What  does 
a  big  girl  like  you  want  with  Easter  eggs  ?" 

''  I'm  no  bigger  than  Jennie  May  or  Lucy  White,  and  they're 
going  to  have  them,"  replied  Fannie. 


nil  ii  Mill/  ^    ,,> 


"  I  can't  help  it  if  they  are."  Grace  spoke  with  some  petu- 
lance in  her  voice.     "I  haven't  any  time  for  such  nonsense." 

Now,  Fannie  had  set  her  heart  on  the  Easter  eggs,  and  her 
disappointment  was  so  great  at  her  sister's  refusal  that  she 
could  not  control  her  feelings,  but  burst  out  crying,  at  which 
Grace,  being  much  annoyed,  scolded  her  sharply.  This  did  not 
help  the  matter  any.     Grief  gave  way  to  anger,  and  Fannie 


EASTER   EGGS.  85 

talked  back  to  Grace  in  a  very  unsisterly  way.  Both  of  them 
were  made  unhappy. 

Thinking  to  find  employment  for  Fannie,  and  so  divert  her 
thoughts,  Grace  handed  her  a  piece  of  worsted  work  and  said, 

"Put  this  flower  in  for  me,  won't  you?  You  did  the  last 
one  nicely." 

'*  No,  I  won't !"  Yes,  these  were  her  very  words.  "  If  you 
can't  dye  me  the  eggs,  I'll  not  work  your  flowers." 

"  Oh,"  said  Grace,  "  if  you're  going  to  keep  such  bad  com- 
pany, I  can't  stay."  And  she  went  from  the  room,  leaving  Fan- 
nie alone. 

For  a  good  while  Fannie  sat  crying  from  anger  and  disap- 
pointment. Then,  as  she  grew  calm,  the  thought  of  what  her 
sister  said  as  she  went  out,  "  If  you're  going  to  keep  such  bad 
company,"  came  into  her  mind.  She  knew  very  well  to  what 
company  her  sister  referred.  Anger,  ill-nature,  fretfulness, 
were  her  companions  now,  and  they  were  making  her  wretched. 

Gradually,  as  she  sat  alone  thinking,  a  change  came  over  her 
feelings.  ''  I'm  sorry  I  talked  so  to  Grace,"  she  said,  "  even  if 
she  wouldn't  dye  me  the  Easter  eggs.  Oh  dear!" —  and  she 
drew  a  long  sigh — "  some  litde  girls  have  kind  sisters  that  do 
everything  for  them,  but  Grace  thinks  it  a  trouble  to  do  even 
the  littlest  thing  for  me." 

Even  as  Fannie  said  this  she  remembered  the  beautiful  party- 
dress  that  Grace  made  for  her  only  the  week  before,  and  how 
she  sat  up  late  at  night  so  as  to  be  sure  to  have  it  ready.  And 
then  she  thought  of  a  dozen  kind  and  self-denying  acts  of  her 
sister,  all  done  for  crood. 


S6  EASTER   EGGS. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  she  spoke  aloud.  The  bad  company  in  which 
Grace  left  her  had  gone,  and  in  dieir  place  were  repentance, 
kindness,  love. 

She  took  up  the  strip  of  worsted  that  Grace  had  placed  in 
her  lap,  and  unrolling  it,  commenced  working  in  the  flower,  and 
was  soon  so  interested  in  what  she  was  doing  that  she  scarcely 
noticed  the  passage  of  time. 

Grace  did  not  feel  very  happy  when  she  went  from  the  room 
leaving  Fannie  alone.  She  had  not  regarded  her  litde  sister 
with  the  kindness  and  consideration  that  were  her  due.  The 
Easter  eggs  were  a  thing  of  no  account  to  her,  but  to  the  child 
who  had  set  her  heart  on  them  they  were  a  great  deal. 

Now,  it  happened  that  next  door  to  the  pleasant  home  in 
which  Grace  Bond  lived  was  a  poor  German  family — a  man  and 
his  wife  and  two  children.  The  woman  had  been  sick,  and 
Grace  had  gone  in  two  or  three  times  during  the  week  to  see 
her.  It  was  an  hour,  perhaps,  after  leaving  Fannie  alone,  that 
the  thought  of  this  woman  came  into  her  mind. 

'T'll  go  and  see  how  she  is,"  said  Grace,  and  putting  some- 
thing over  her  head,  she  went  to  the  next  door  and  knocked. 

*'  Come  in !"  cried  a  pleasant  voice,  and  Grace  pushed  open 
the  door. 

What  a  surprise  !  The  group  that  met  her  gaze  was  a  pic- 
ture in  itself,  and  very  pleasant  to  look  upon — a  picture  with  a 
lesson  that  went  down  into  her  heart. 

Sittino-  on  a  low  chair  was  the  German  mother.  On  the 
floor  was  a  white  napkin,  over  w^hich  gayly-colored  Easter 
eggs  had  been  spread  to  cool,  and  she  was  now  lifting  these, 


EASTER  EGGS.  87 

one  by  one,  into  a  dish  on  her  lap.  In  front  of  her  were  the 
two  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl,  looking  so  pleased  and  happy 
that  the  very  sight  of  their  faces  made  the  heart  of  Grace  grow 
warmer. 

"  Easter  eggs  ?"  she  said,  with  a  smile,  as  she  came  forward 
into  the  room. 

"  Yes ;  they  please  Ludwig  and  Bertha,"  was  the  woman's 
answer.     ''  And  I  make  them  happy  when  I  can." 

How  lovingly  the  children  looked  up  into  her  worn  and 
patient  face  ! 

A  thought  of  her  unhappy  sister  now  flashed  through  the 
mind  of  Grace,  and  there  came  to  her  the  image  of  the  child 
sitting  alone  and  in  tears — a  painful  contrast  to  the  scene  be- 
fore her.     Self-rebuke  and  self-condemnation  followed  quickly. 

''  Oh,  these  are  beautiful !"  she  said,  stooping  to  the  floor 
and  taking  up  one  of  the  eggs.  "  How  charmingly  you  have 
painted  them !" 

"Won't  you  take  some  for  your  little  sister?  Bertha  and 
Ludwicr  will  be  dad  to  share  them,  I  know."  And  the  mother 
looked  to  her  children  for  approval. 

"  She  shall  have  two  of  mine,"  said  Bertha,  quickly.  ''  And 
two  of  mine,"  cried  Ludwig. 

"  Oh  no ;  I  can't  rob  you  after  that  fashion,"  answered  Grace. 
"But  if  you  will  let  me  have  four  of  these  beauties — they  are 
beauties — I  will  send  you  in  a  dozen  not  dyed.  Fannie  will  be 
so  pleased  to  get  them." 

"  Take  them  all,"  said  the  woman.  "  I  will  dye  more  for  the 
children." 


88  EASTER   EGGS. 

But  Grace  said,  "  No  ;  four  will  be  enough  for  Fannie." 

On  returning  home,  Grace  hurried  to  the  room  where,  an 
hour  before,  she  had  left  her  little  sister  angry  and  in  tears. 
Her  heart  had  a  troubled  beat  as  she  pushed  open  the  door 
and  went  in.  All  was  silent.  By  the  table,  with  her  face 
buried  in  her  arms,  sat  Fannie  fast  asleep.  The  strip  of  wor- 
sted work,  with  the  tiower  completed,  lay  on  the  floor,  as  if  it 
had  just  dropped  from  her  hand. 

"  Fannie  dear !"  Grace  spoke  in  a  tender,  loving  voice. 
The  child  moved  but  did  not  answer,  for  sleep  lay  heavy  on 
her  senses. 

"  Fannie !" 

"  Oh  yes  !     What  is  it  ?"  answered  the  child,  dreamily. 

"  Fannie  dear  !"  Grace  called  again. 

''  Oh  !  Easter  eggs  ?  No,  I  haven't  any  ;  and  I  wanted  them 
so  badly !" 

Still  dreaming,  but  she  was  wide  awake  a  moment  afterward, 
sitting  up  looking  at  Grace  and  then  at  the  beautifully  painted 
eggs  that  were  held  before  her  wondering  eyes. 

''It  is  so  good  in  you,  sister  dear!"  she  exclaimed.  "Thank 
you  a  thousand  times  !"  And  springing  up,  she  threw  her  arms 
about  Grace's  neck,  hugging  and  kissing  her  in  a  heart-gush  of 
love. 

"  I  will  try  and  be  more  thoughtful  of  my  little  sister  here- 
after," said  Grace  to  herself;  and  speaking  aloud,  with  her 
arms  still  about  the  neck  of  her  sister,  Fannie  said :  "  I  wasn't 
naughty  long,  Grace ;  and  I've  worked  the  flower  for  you,  and 
you  are  a  dear,  dear  good  sister  as  ever  was !" 


HOW  BOBBY  RYAN    CAME   NEAR 
BEING  DROWNED. 


jmEVER  make  an  enemy  even  of  a  dog,"  said  I  to 
Bobby  Ryan  as  I  caught  at  his  raised  hand  and  tried 
to  prevent  him  from  throwing  a  stick  at  our  neighbor 
Howard's  great  Newfoundland.  But  my  words  and 
pi  effort  were  too  late.  Over  the  fence  flew  the  stick,  and 
whack  on  Dandy's  nose  it  fell.  Now,  Dandy,  a  great,  powerful 
fellow,  was  very  good-natured,  but  this  proved  a  little  too  much 
for  him.  He  sprang  up  with  an  angry  growl,  and  bounding 
over  the  fence  as  if  he  had  been  as  light  as  a  bird,  caught 
Bobby  Ryan  by  the  arm  and  held  him  tighdy  enough  to  let  his 
teeth  be  felt. 

''  Dandy !  Dandy !"  I  cried,  in  momentary  alarm,  "  let  go. 
Don't  bite  him." 

The  dog  lifted  his  dark  brown  angry  eyes  to  mine  with  a 
look  of  intelligence,  and  I  understood  what  they  said :  "  I  only 
want  to  frighten  the  young  rascal." 

And  Bobby  was  frightened.  Dandy  held  him  for  a  litde 
while,  growling  savagely,  though  there  was  a  great  deal  of 
make-believe  in  the  growl,  and    then   tossing   the   arm    away, 


8y 


90       HO IV  BOBBY  RYAN  CAME  NEAR   BEING   DROWNED. 

leaped   back   over  the   fence    and    laid   himself   down    by   his 
kennel. 

''You're  a  very  foolish  boy,  Bobby  Ryan,"  said  I,  ''to  pick  a 
quarrel  with  such  a  splendid  old  fellow  as  that.  Suppose  you 
were  to  fall  into  the  lake  some  day,  and  Dandy  happened  to 
be  near,  and  suppose  he  should  remember  your  bad  treatment 
and  refuse  to  go  in  after  you  ?" 

"Wouldn't  care,"  replied  Bobby.     "I  can  swim." 

Now,  it  happened  only  a  week  afterward  that  Bobby  was  out 
on  the  lake  in  company  with  an  older  boy,  and  that  in  some 
way  their  boat  was  upset  in  deep  water  not  far  from  the  shore, 
and  it  also  happened  that  Mr.  Howard  and  his  dog  Dandy 
were  near  by  and  saw  the  two  boys  struggling  in  the  water. 

Quick  as  thought  Dandy  sprang  into  the  lake  and  swam 
rapidly  toward  Bobby,  but,  strange  to  say,  after  getting  close 
to  the  lad,  he  turned  and  went  toward  the  larger  boy,  who  was 
struggling  in  the  water  and  keeping  his  head  above  the  surface 
with  difficulty.  Seizing  him,  Dandy  brought  him  safely  to  the 
shore.  He  then  turned  and  looked  toward  Bobby,  his  young 
tormentor.  He  had  a  good  many  old  grudges  against  him, 
and  for  some  moments  seemed  hesitating  whether  to  save  him 
or  let  him  drown. 

"  Quick,  Dandy !"  cried  his  master,  pointing  to  poor  Bobby, 
who  was  trying  his  best  to  keep  afloat.  He  was  not  the  brave 
swimmer  he  had  thought  himself 

At  this  the  noble  old  dog  bounded  again  into  the  water  and 
brought  Bobby  to  land.  He  did  not  seem  to  have  much  heart 
in  his  work,  however,  for  he  dropped  the  boy  as  soon  as  he 


HO  IV  BOBBY  RYAN  CAME  NEAR  BEING   DROWNED.      9  I 
reached  the  shore,  and  walked  away  with  a  stately,  indifferent 

UiV. 

But  Bobby,  grateful  for  his  rescue  and  repenting  of  his 
former  unkindness,  made  up  with  Dandy  on  that  very  day,  and 
they  were  ever  afterward  fast  friends.  He  came  very  near 
ksing  his  life  through  unkindness  to  a  dog,  and  the  lesson  it 
give  him  will  not  soon  be  forgotten. 


BE  A  GOOD  GIRL. 


E  a  good  girl,  Dolly!     Don't  do  anything  naughty 
while  I'm  gone,  and  be  sure  to  get  your  lesson." 
And  Katy  lifted  her  finger  and  shook  it  at  Dolly 
as  she  opened  the  door  to  leave  the  room. 

Now,    these    were    almost    the    very    words    Katy's 
mother  had  said  to  her  only  a  litde  while  before. 

And  what  do  you  think  was  in  Katy's  mind  when  she  said 
this  to  her  Dolly?  I  will  tell  you.  She  had  been  playing  with 
Fido  and  her  Dolly  for  a  good  while,  as  happy  as  she  could  be, 
when  all  at  once  she  thought  of  the  basket  filled  with  nice  cake 
she  had  seen  that  morning  in  her  mamma's  closet,  and  as  soon 
as  she  thought  of  the  cake  she  began  to  want  a  piece. 

But  mamma  had  told  her  never  to  go  to  this  closet  to  help 
herself,  so  she  tried  not  to  think  about  the  cake,  but  still  the 
thought  would  come.  At  last  she  said  to  herself,  *'  I'll  just  get 
a  tiny  little  piece " — as  if  it  wasn't  as  wrong  to  take  a  little 
piece  as  a  big  one. 

So  off  Katy  started,  after  charging  her  Dolly  to  be  a  good 
girl  while  she  was  gone.  As  she  opened  the  closet  door  she 
thought  she  heard  her  mother's  voice.     She  stopped  to  listen. 

92 


BE   A   GOOD   CURL. 


BE  A    GOOD    GIRL.  95 

"  Be  a  good  girl,  Katy !"  It  seemed  as  if  the  words  were 
spoken  aloud,  so  distinctly  did  they  fall  on  her  ears.  "  Don't 
do  anything  naughty  while  I'm  gone."  Just  what  she  had  said 
to  Dolly. 

A  strange  feeling  came  over  little  Katy.  She  shut  the  closet 
door  softly,  looked  all  about  the  room  and  listened  for  her 
mother's  steps,  but  she  was  alone. 

"Be  a  good  girl,  Katy!"  Again  the  words  seemed  spoken 
aloud. 

Katy  stood  wondering ;  then  she  said  softly  to  herself,  as  a 
lieht  came  into  her  face,  "  I  ouess  it's  one  of  the  angels  mam- 
ma  told  me  about  that  won't  let  bad  spirits  make  us  naughty 
if  they  can  help  it.  I  was  going  to  be  naughty,  but  I  won't. 
I'll  not  touch  the  cake,  because  mamma  said  I  mustn't." 

And  the  little  girl  went  back  to  her  Dolly,  and  catching  it  up 
in  her  arms,  kissed  it  fondly,  saying,  as  she  danced  about  the 
room,  "  Dear  Dolly  was  a  good  little  girl,  and  didn't  do  any- 
thing naughty  while  its  mamma  was  gone  !" 


THE  SNOA¥  STORM. 


H  dear!  I'm  so  disappointed!" 

Harvey  sat  by  the  window  looking  out  dreamily 
at  the  fast-falling  snow. 
Now,  a  boy  ten  years  old  is  not  often  put  out  of  humor 
by  a  snow  storm,  for  the  snow  brings  frolic  and  fun.  But 
it  happened  that  this  one  came  just  in  the  wrong  time — at  least 
so  Harvey  thought,  for  It  kept  him  from  making  a  promised 
visit  to  his  cousins,  who  lived  a  mile  or  two  away.  The  snow 
was  already  deep  and  still  falling,  and  his  mother  would  not 
hear  to  his  going  off  alone. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  she  said,  "  you  might  get  lost  In  the  snow 
and  be  frozen  to  death." 

But  Harvey  wasn't  afraid,  and  would  have  taken  all  the  risks 
if  his  mother  had  said  the  word.  This  she  could  not  do,  and 
so  the  boy  had  to  stay  at  home,  much  against  his  will. 

Instead  of  putting  on  his  great  coat  and  warm  mittens,  as 
most  little  boys  would  have  done,  and  having  a  good  time  out 
of  doors,  where  the  beautiful  snow  was  drifting  about  in 
feathery  flakes  and  covering  the  earth  with  a  carpet  of  the 
purest  white,  he  sat  moping  at  a  window,  saying  every  now 
and  then  to  himself,  in  a  miserable  voice : 

96 


THE  SNOW  STORM. 


97 


"  Oh  dear  !  I'm  so  disappointed  !" 

About  midday  the  snow  ceased  falling  and  the  sun  came  out 
bright  and  strong.  What  a  lustre  and  sparkle  was  on  every- 
thing !  How  strange  and  wonderful  in  its  new  robe  of  dazzling 
whiteness  was  every  object  on  which  the  vision  rested ! 

As  Harvey  looked  from  the  window  he  felt  the  charm  of  a 
scene  so  lovely.  The  shadows  of  disappointment  passed  away 
and  his  cheerfulness  returned. 


"It  is  so  beautiful!"  he  said,  looking  up  into  his  mother's 
face. 

"  It  is  good  as  well  as  beautiful,"  answered  his  mother. 

** What  Is  the  snow  good  for?"  asked  Harvey. 

"  It  is  good  for  the  broad  fields  in  which  the  farmer  sows  his 
grain.  This  snow  storm,  which  made  you  angry  because  it 
came  in   the  way  of  a  little  pleasure,   has   covered  the  grain- 


98 


THE  SNOW  STORM. 


fields  as  with  a  soft  blanket,  protecting  the  seed  sown  there, 
and  making  sure  the  summer  harvests." 

''Oh,  I  didn't  know  that!"  answered  Harvey.  "But  I  was 
so  disappointed !" 

''And,  like  a  great  many  older  people,"  said  his  mother, 
"refused  the  pleasure  that  was  at  your  door,  and  sat  down 
gloomily  to  sigh  for  something  afar  off.     But  the  storm  is  over 


now,  and  I  think,  if  you  are  dressed  up  warmly,  you  might  go 
over  to  your  cousin's.     The  snow  is  not  very  deep." 

Harvey  clapped  his  hands  in  high  glee,  and  danced  about 
the  room  for  joy. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  had  on  his  warm  overcoat,  his  cap  and 
his  mittens,  and  with  a  light  basket  in  his  hand  started  off. 


THE  SNOW  STORM. 


99 


*'  You  see,  darling,"  said  his  mother  as  she  kissed  him  at 
the  door,  "  that  you  have  wasted  a  whole  morning  and  been 
unhappy  for  nothing.  Because  God  was  spreading  this  cover- 
ing of  snow  over  the  fields  that  he  might  give  bread  to  the 
hungry  you  complained  and  were  miserable,  instead  of  being 
thankful  for  his  goodness,  and  waiting  for  the  pleasure  you  had 
looked  for  until  the  storm  was  over.  You  have  the  pleasure 
now,  and  it  is  your  own  fault  that  it  comes  after  pain,/* 


GOD'S  ACRE. 

^  HE  children  gathered  around  their  father  with  expect- 
ant faces  as  he  untied  a  broad  thin  parcel. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  asked  one  of  them,  more  eager  than 
the  rest  to  grasp  the  coming  pleasure. 
A  moment  afterward,  and  there  was  held  up  to  our  ad- 
miring gaze  the  beautiful  chromo,  ''  God's  Acre."  For  a  litde 
while  we  were  all  silent  as  we  looked  at  the  two  children  out 
In  the  wintry  snow,  and  felt  the  sadness  that  rested  on  one  of 
their  faces. 

"  Poor,  dear  children  !"  said  I,  first  to  break  the  silence.  I 
had  thrown  my  arm  around  Katie,  and  now  drew  her  tighdy  to 
my  side. 

"Where  are  they  going?"  asked  Eddie.  "What  are  they 
doing  out  in  the  snow  ?" 

"  Going  to  lay  a  wreath  upon  their  mother's  grave,"  said  I, 
with  a  tender  sadness  in  my  voice  that  I  could  not  repress. 

"Oh!  is  their  mother  dead?"  returned  the  child,  his  voice 
catching  the  sadness  of  my  own. 

"  Yes,  dear.  They  are  poor  motherless  little  girls,  and  they 
have  gone  to  the  graveyard  on  a  dreary  winter  day  to  put  an 
offering  of  love  upon  her  grave." 

100 


GOD'S  ACRE. 


^u^i'i^ii' 


GOD'S  ACRE,  103 

"Why  do  they  call  the  picture  God's  Acre?"  asked  one  of 
the  children. 

*'  It  is  another  name  for  a  graveyard,"  replied  their  father. 
"  Longfellow  has  a  poem  beginning — 

<  I  like  that  ancient  Saxon  phrase  which  calls 
The  burial-ground  God  Acre  !      It  is  just : 
It  consecrates  each  grave  within  its  walls 

And  breathes  a  benison  o'er  the  sleeping  dust.'  " 

"  I'm  so  sorry  for  them,"  said  Katie,  crowding  closely  against 
me  and  laying  her  curly  head  on  my  bosom.  Then  she  put  her 
arms  about  my  neck  and  kissed  me,  and  as  I  looked  down  into 
her  face  I  saw  that  her  eyes  were  swimming  in  tears.  My  own 
heart  was  too  full  to  speak,  and  I  only  drew  my  arm  more 
tightly  around  her,  thanking  God  in  my  heart  that  my  little 
ones  still  had  their  mother  to  love  and  care  for  them. 


THE  WHITE  ROSE. 


yM^il  WHITE  rose  that  grew  far  up  on  a  trellis  felt  very 
I'vfSTl  lonely,  and  sighed  to  be  down  In  the  crarden  where 
^^J\g)    the  children  were  at  play. 

^^^^  "  ^  an"i  of  no  use  away  up  here,"  she  said.  "  Nobody 
^^  sees  me,  and  when  I  breathe  out  my  sweet  odors,  the 
wind  bears  them  off  among  the  tree-tops,  and  they  are  lost." 

104 


THE    WHITE  ROSE.  I05 

But  even  as  she  sighed  her  complaints  a  soft  hand  reached 
down  from  a  window  and  took  her  gently  from  the  stem  that 
bore  her,  and  she  heard  a  voice  say : 

"  How  pure  and  sweet ! — pure  as  my  patient  Lily." 

Then  the  hand  that  held  her  tenderly  bore  her  to  an  inner 
chamber,  where  a  sick  child  lay  upon  a  bed. 

"This  beautiful  white  rose,"  said  the  voice  which  had  sounded 
so  sweetly,  "  came  up  from  the  garden  and  grew  close  by  the 
window.  It  has  breathed  the  purest  air  and  drunk  the  warm- 
est sunshine.     Its  heart  is  full  of  sweetness." 

And  the  hand  held  her  close  to  the  sick  child,  who  was  re- 
freshed by  her  beauty  and  fragrance. 

Then  the  rose  quivered  with  delight,  and  breathing  out  her 
very  heart  upon  the  air,  filled  the  chamber  with  a  rich  perfume. 

"  I  am  content,"  she  said,  a  litde  while  afterward,  as  she  lay 
on  the  pillow  beside  the  sick  child,  her  soft  white  leaves  touch- 
ing the  cheek  as  soft  and  white  as  themselves. 


THE  NEW  SCHOLAR. 


HIS  is  a  boy's  school,"  said  the  kind  .old  teacher  as 
he  put  the  rod  he  held  in  his  hand  behind  him.  "  We 
don't  take  dogs." 

There  was  a  smile  in  his  pleasant  eyes. 
^  '*  Ponto  would  come  along,  you   see ;  he's  so  fond  of 

osie. 
"  Yes,  ma'am,  I've  no  doubt  of  it,  and  the  lambs  and  kit- 
tens too.     But  we  only  take  boys." 

Josie  had  seen  the  rod  which  the  teacher  was  trying  to  keep 
out    of  view,  and  it   friorhtened   him.     So   he   drew   back   and 
caught  hold  of  his  mother's  dress,  while  Ponto,  a  little  scared,, 
like  his  master,  but  on  the  alert,  smelled  suspiciously  at  the 
teacher's  trowsers. 

"  He's  a  good  boy,"  said  Josie's  mother,  lifting  the  cap  from 
his  pure  white  brow,  "and  won't,  I  am  sure,  give  you  any 
trouble." 

But  the  rod  was  too  much  for  Josie.  He  kept  his  eyes  upon 
the  arm  that  held  it,  and  bent  round  to  get  sight  of  the  terrible 
instrument. 

"  It  isn't  for  good  litde  boys  like  you  " — the  teacher  smiled 
and  looked  kindly  at  the  lad — *'but  for  bad  boys  and  dogs." 


I 


106 


THE  NEW  SCHOLAR.  I07 

And  he  looked  at  Ponto,  lifting  his  hand  and  making  believe 
he  was  oroinof  to  strike.  The  dofj  started  back  in  alarm  and 
ran  out  of  doors,  Josie  following,  and  in  the  next  instant  both 
were  seen  scampering  down  the  road  and  on  their  way  home. 
It  was  all  in  vain  that  Josie's  mother  called  him  ;  he  neither 
stopped  nor  turned,  but  kept  on  as  fast  as  his  legs  would  carry 
him,  and  did  not  stop  until  he  and  Ponto  were  safe  at  home. 

"So  much,"  said  the  teacher,  a  little  severely,  to  Josie's  mo- 
ther, "  for  letting  him  bring  his  dog  along.  You  ought  to  have 
known  better." 

"And  so  much,"  answered  Josie's  mother,  a  flash  of  anger 
in  her  eyes,  "  for  keeping  an  instrument  of  torture  in  your 
hand  to  fricrhten  little  children.     You  oueht  to  know  better." 

The  mother  and  teacher  stood  looking  at  each  other  with 
severe  faces  for  some  moments.  Then  a  change  came  over 
that  of  the  kind  old  man.     It  orrew  mild  and  eentle. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said,  with  a  tender  regret  in  his  tones. 
"  I  ought  to  have  known  better,  and  I  thank  you  for  telling  me 
the  truth.  Bring  your  little  boy  to-morrow,  and  I  promise  you 
there  will  be  no  rod  visible  to  frighten  him.  But  be  sure,"  he 
added,  a  smile  lighting  up  his  face,  "  to  leave  Ponto  at  home." 


THE  SISTERS, 


'M  sorry,  but  one  of  you  will  have  to  stay  at  home," 
said  the  mother.     *'  Hannah's   father  is  sick,  and  I 
promised  her  that  she  should  go  to  see  him,  and  I 
cannot  take  the  care  of  Eddie  all  day." 
Of  course  she  could  not.     You  had  only  to  look  into 
her  pale  face  and  on  her  thin,  weak  body  to  know  that. 

Her  two  little  girls,  Fannie  and  Alice,  were  standing  before 
her  when  she  said  this.     She  saw  their  countenances  fall. 

"  I  wish  it  were  not  so,"  the  mother  added,  feebly,  "  but  I 
would  be  in  bed  sick  before  the  day  was  half  over  if  I  were 
left  alone  with  Eddie.  Some  one  has  to  be  after  him  all  the 
time." 

Fannie  pouted  and  scowled,  I  am  sorry  to  say.  Alice  looked 
sober  and  disappointed.  They  went  from  their  mother's  room 
without  speaking.  When  so  far  away  that  her  voice  could  not 
be  heard,  Fannie  said,  in  a  sharp,  resolute  tone,  from  which  all 
kind  feeling  had  died  out: 

"  Pm  not  going  to  stay  at  home.  Miss  Alice !  You  can 
make  your  mind  up  to  that" 

Alice  did  not  reply,  but  sat  down  quiedy.     Her  disappoint- 


lOS 


THE  SfSTERS.  IO9 

ment  was  keen,  for  some  little  girls  in  the  neighborhood  had 
made  up  a  small  pic-nic  party,  and  were  going  to  have  a 
pleasant  day  in  the  woods. 

"  It  will  be  as  mother  says,"  she  spoke  out,  after  thinking  for 
a  while. 

"  I'm  the  oldest  and  have  the  best  right  to  go,"  answered 
Fannie,  selfishly.  ^' And  what's  more,  I'm  going;"  and  she 
commenced  putting  on  her  things. 

A  few  tears  crept  into  the  eyes  of  Alice.  It  would  fall  upon 
her  to  stay  at  home  ;  she  saw  that.  Fannie  was  selfish  and 
strong  willed,  and  unless  positively  ordered  by  her  mother  to 
remain  at  home  and  let  her  sister  go,  would  grasp  as  her  own 
the  pleasure  to  which  Alice  had  an  equal  right  with  herself. 
If  the  decision  were  referred  to  her  mother,  a  contention  would 
spring  up,  and  then  Fannie  would  speak  and  act  in  a  way  to 
cause  her  distress  of  mind. 

"If  mother  were  to  make  Fannie  stay  at  home,"  Alice  said, 
in  her  thought,  "  she  w^ould  pout,  and  fling,  and  act  so  ugly 
that  there'd  be  no  comfort  with  her,  and  mother  isn't  strong 
enough  to  bear  it." 

The  tender  love  that  Alice  held  in  her  heart  for  both  her 
mother  and  dear  little  two-year-old  Eddie  was  all-prevailirjg, 
and  soon  turned  her  thoughts  away  from  the  pic-nic  and  its 
promised  delights  to  the  pleasures  and  loving  duties  of  home. 

"  I'm  going  to  stay,"  she  said,  coming  back  into  her  mother's 
room  with  a  bright  face  and  cheerful  voice. 

"Are  you,  dear?"  It  was  all  she  said,  but  in  her  tone  and 
looks  there  was  a  precious  heart-reward  for  Alice. 


ITO 


THE   SISTERS. 


'*  He's  been  so  sweet  all  day !"  said  Alice,  coming;  in  where 
her  mother  sat  by  a  window,  with  the  cool  airs  of  the  late 
afternoon  fanning  her  wasted  cheeks.     She  had  a  weary  look. 

"And  you  have  been  sweet  too,  my  darling!"  answered  the 
mother,  in  a  very  tender  voice,  as  she  laid  her  hand  on  Alice's 
head.  "  I  don't  knov\^  what  I  should  have  done  without  you.  It 
has  been  one  of  my  weak  days.     But  you  look  tired,  dear," 


she  added.     ''Sit  down  in   that  easy-chair  and   rest  yourself. 
Come,  Eddie." 

And  she  held  out  her  hands  for  the  child,  but  he  clambered 
into  Alice's  lap  and  laid  his  cunning  little  head  against  her 
bosom.  Both  were  tired — loving  sister  and  sweet  pet  brother. 
It  seemed  hardly  a  minute  before  they  were  asleep,  and  as  the 


THE  SISTERS.  1  I 


mother,  with  eyes  that  were  fast  growing  dnii,  looked  at  their 
tranquil  faces  and  quiet  forms,  she  thanked  the  good  Father  in 
heaven  for  a  gift  so  precious  and  beautiful. 


Bang!  went  the  door,  starding  the  mother  from  peaceful 
thoughts  and  arousing  Alice  from  the  light  slumber  into  which 
she  had  fallen.  In  came  Fannie,  all  in  disorder,  and  threw  her- 
self into  a  chair,  looking  the  picture  of  unhappiness. 

''Have  you  had  a  pleasant  time?"  asked  the  mother,  speak- 
ing with  a  kind  interest  in  her  voice. 

"I've  had  a  horrid  time!"  answered  Fannie,  flinging  out  the 
word  angrily.  "  I  never  saw  such  a  mean  set  of  girls  in  my 
life.  They  wouldn't  do  anything  I  wanted  to  do,  nor  go  any- 
where I  wanted  to  go." 

''That  was  bad,"  said  the  mother.  "And  I  suppose  you 
wouldn't  do  anything  they  wanted  to  do,  nor  go  anywhere  they 
wanted  to  go." 

Fannie  did  not  reply. 

"  How  was  it,  my  child?"  urged  the  mother. 

"  Hadn't  I  as  much  right  to  have  my  way  about  things  as  any 
of  them?"  demanded  Fannie.  "There  was  that  Kate  Lewis. 
I  can't  bear  her!  If  she  said,  'Let  us  do  this,'  or,  'Let  us  do 
that,'  every  one  agreed  in  a  minute." 

"  You  with  the  rest,"  said  the  mother. 

"Indeed,  then,  and  I  didn't!"  replied  Fannie,  impatiently. 
"  Kate  Lewis  can't  lead  me  about  by  the  nose,  as  she  does 
other  girls.     I  have  a  mind  of  my  own." 

"  Perhaps,"  answered  her  mother,  seriously,  "you  would  have 


I  I  2  THE  SISTERS. 

come  nearer  to  the  truth,  my  child,  if  you  had  said  a  self-will 
of  your  own.  I  find,  from  your  account  of  things,  that  you 
wanted  everything  your  own  way,  and,  because  the  rest 
wouldn't  give  up  to  you,  made  yourself  disagreeable  and  un- 
happy, and  so  lost  all  the  pleasure  of  the  day.  I'm  afraid  you 
were  not  in  just  the  best  state  of  mind  for  enjoyment  when  you 
left  this  morning." 

This  was  too  much  for  Fannie,  already  feeling  so  miserable, 
and  she  broke  out  into  a  fit  of  sobbing  and  crying. 

In  what  different  states  of  mind  were  the  two  girls  at  the 
close  of  this  day  !  Alice,  awakened  from  a  brief  but  refreshing 
sleep  by  the  entrance  of  Fannie,  sat,  with  tranquil  heart  and 
peaceful  face,  looking  at  her  unhappy  sister,  who  had  selfishly 
claimed  the  day  for  pleasure,  not  caring  how  wearily  it  might 
pass  for  her,  and  pitied  her  miserable  condition,  while  Fannie 
cried  from  very  shame  and  wretchedness. 

Dear  little  readers,  need  I  ask  any  of  you,  even  the  youngest, 
what  made  all  this  difference  ?  Already  you  have  come  to  know, 
through  some  painful  as  well  as  pleasant  experiences,  that  hap- 
piness waits  not  on  any  selfish  demand,  but  creeps  lovingly  Into 
every  heart  which,  forgetful  of  its  own  ease,  or  comfort,  or 
pleasure,  seeks  the  comfort  and  blessing  of  others. 

Do  not  forget  this,  dear  children.  Keep  it  always  In  mind, 
and  it  will  not  only  save  you  many  unhappy  hours,  but  put 
warm  floods  of  sunshine  and  joy  into  your  hearts. 


KATIE'S  RIDE  DOWN  HILL. 


^  AKE  good  care  of  her,  Frankle." 
^^iW        "  Yes,  ma'am." 


"And  be  sure  not  to  upset  her  In  the  snow." 
''  Wouldn't  that  be  fun  ?"  laughed  Katie,  a  merry  light 
y}>     sparkling  in  her  blue  eyes. 

"  Not  if  you  struck  on  your  nose  or  got  a  bump  on  your 
head,"  said  mamma  as  she  wrapped  Katie  up  warmly. 

"  Get  on,  now !  There !  Hold  fast,  and  away  we  go !" 
shouted  Frankie,  and  off  he  started  with  little  Katie  on  his  sled, 
pulling  her  easily  over  the  snow. 

What  a  pretty  sight  it  was ! — Katie,  a  soft,  warm  bundle,  on 
the  sled,  looking  so  happy,  and  Frankie,  full  of  life,  prancing 
along  with  her  like  a  spirited  horse. 

xAway  they  went,  down  the  lane  and  across  an  old  field  to  a 
hillside  where  the  boys  of  the  village  came  to  coast.  This  hill 
was  steep,  and  there  was  a  mill-race  at  the  bottom,  now  frozen 
over  and  covered  to  the  depth  of  several  feet  with  drifted 
snow. 

"  You  get  off  now,"  said  Frankie,  *'  and  let  me  go  down  the 

hill." 

8  ii;^ 


114  KATIE'S  RIDE  DOWN  HILL. 

So  Katie  got  off  the  sled,  and  Frankie  drew  It  to  the  edge 
of  the  hill. 

"  Now  see  me  eo  !"  he  cried  to  Katie,  and  he  took  his  seat 
on  the  sled.  A  moment  after  he  was  moving  off,  and  soon 
went  o-lidino-  down  the  hill  as  swiftly  as  the  wind.  Katie 
almost  held  her  breath  as  she  watched  her  brother,  and  when 
she  saw  him  safely  at  the  bottom  clapped  her  hands  with  de- 
light. 

'*  Get  on  with  me,"  said  Frankie  as  he  came  dragging  his 
sled  to  the  hilltop,  his  face  glowing  with  excitement.  He  had 
forgotten  his  mother  s  parting  words :  "  Take  good  care  of  her, 
Frankie."  i 

"  Oh,  I'm  afraid,"  answered  Katie. 

"  Get  on  !  There's  no  danger  !  Fm  not  afraid,"  urged  her 
brother  ;  "  you  don't  know  how  nice  it  is.  See  !  There  goes 
Maggie  Lewis.  She's  not  afraid.  Come  !  That's  a  dear  little 
sister.  It's  splendid  fun.  Just  get  on  the  sled  and  try  it.  I 
know  you  will  like  it." 

So  urged  and  persuaded,  Katie,  with  her  little  heart  in  her 
mouth,  as  the  saying  is,  got  on  the  sled,  sitting  right  behind 
her  brother  and  clasping  both  arms  around  him,  while  he  held 
the  cord  that  was  fastened  to  his  sled. 

"  Oh,  I'm  afraid !"  said  Katie,  in  a  low,  timid  voice,  as  the  sled 
began  moving,  and  her  eyes  went  down  the  steep  hill  before 
her. 

"  No  danger !"  answered  Frankie  ;  yet,  even  as  he  said  this, 
he  felt  less  assured,  for  the  hill  looked  steeper  than  before,  and 
the  burden  of  Katie  on  his  sled  and  the  clasp  of  her  arms  took 


THE    RIDE   DOWN    HILL. 


KA  TIE  'S  RIDE  DOWN  HILL.  I  I  7 

away  the  free  play  of  his  muscles  and  that  confidence  so  need- 
ful in  the  swift  descent. 

Away  they  went,  their  speed  increasing  every  moment,  until 
they  reached  a  place  where  the  hill  pitched  down  at  a  sharp 
angle,  and  beyond  which  the  coaster  had  no  power  to  stop 
himself,  but  must  go  on  swiftly  to  the  bottom,  where,  by  firmly 
bracing  his  feet,  he  could  check  his  flight  in  time  to  keep  free 
of  the  mill-race. 

"  Oh  dear !"  cried  Katie  as  she  looked  down  the  hill ;  "  Fm  so 
frightened !" 

"  No  danger,"  said  Frankie,  trying  to  speak  bravely. 
**  Keep  right  still  and  hold  on." 

Away  they  flew,  swifter  and  swifter.  It  seemed  to  Katie  as 
if  they  were  falling  from  a  window.  She  lost  her  breath  in  the 
rush  of  the  passing  air,  and  knew  nothing  more  until  she  felt 
herself  bounding  from  the  sled.  In  the  next  moment  she  was 
buried  deep  in  the  soft  bed  of  snow  that  filled  the  mill-race, 
and  as  safe  from  harm  as  if  she  had  tumbled  into  a  bank  of 
feathers. 

"Oh,  Katie,  Katie!  Are  you  hurt?"  cried  Frankie,  in  great 
fear,  as  he  sprang  up  and  shook  the  snow-flakes  from  his  great 
coat,  just  as  you  have  seen  a  water-dog  shake  the  drops  from 
his  shaggy  sides. 

Half  a  dozen  boys  who  had  seen  the  flight  down  the  hill 
and  the  leap  into  the  mill-race  came  running  to  the  rescue, 
and  soon  pulled  little  Katie  out  of  the  snow-drift.  She  was  as 
white  as  a  little  lamb.  Clothes,  hair  and  face  were  all  covered 
with  the  soft  down  of  winter. 


Il8  KATIE'S  RIDE  DOWN  NILE 

"  I  won't  tell  mother  anything  about  it,"  said  the  dear  child, 
in  a  voice  out  of  which  the  fear  had  not  yet  gone,  as  Frankie 
brushed  the  snow  from  her  hair  and  shook  it  from  her  coat. 

''  But  I  will,"  answered  Frankie. 

''And  get  a  good  scolding,"  said  one  of  the  boys.  "What's 
the  use?     I  wouldn't  tell  her!" 

"  My  mother  never  scolds,"  returned  Frankie ;  "  she  only 
talks  easy  and  good,  as  if  she  loved  me.  I  tell  her  every- 
thing." 

And  then  dragging  his  sled  to  the  top  of  the  hill  while  the 
boys  carried  Katie,  he  seated  his  little  sister  again  and  drew 
her  home.  By  the  time  they  arrived,  Katie's  fright  was  over, 
and  she  had  a  grand  little  story  to  tell  about  her  coasting  down 
the  hill  and  tumble  in  the  snow-drift. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  her  when  the  boys  pulled 
her  out !"  said  Frankie.  "  She  looked  just  like  a  dear  little 
lamb — white  all  over." 

Frankie's  mother  did  not  scold  him — as  he  said,  she  never 
scolded — but  she  talked  to  him  about  the  care  he  should  feel 
for  his  sister. 

"  You  are  older,"  she  said,  "  and  know  where  danger  is  bet- 
ter than  she  does.  You  are  stronger,  and  can  do  and  brave 
more  than  she  can.  Never  forget  this,  and  never  forget  that, 
as  her  older  brother,  your  love  and  care  should  not  for  a  mo- 
ment fail.  Let  to-day's  lesson,  my  son,  make  you  more  than 
ever  thoughtful  and  tender  of  our  dear  little  lamb." 

And  ever  after  Frankie  was  as  careful  and  tender  of  her  as 
his  mother  could  desire. 


CHRISTMAS  IS  COMING. 


ND  what  a  Mad  time  it  will  be  for  the  little  ones  !     In 

thousands  and  thousands  of  homes,  when  breaks  the 

Christmas    morning,    there   will   be   sweet   surprises 

>{f   like   that  in   the   picture,   and  hearts   made  happy  by 

d^    love-gifts. 

Christmas  is  coming  !  You  are  waiting  for  it,  dear  children — 
waiting  and  wondering  what  gifts  it  will  bring. 

Shall  I  tell  you,  in  this  waiting-time,  a  Christmas  story?  I 
know  one  ;  it  is  about  a  little  girl  when  she  was  only  nine  years 
old.  Her  name  was  Felice,  and  she  lived  with  her  old  grand- 
mother in  a  small  cottage  that  stood  alone  on  the  roadside, 
nearly  a  mile  away  from  the  village. 

One  day,  just  a  week  before  Christmas,  a  man  came  riding 
by.  He  was  closely  wrapped  in  a  heavy  cloak,  for  the  air  was 
cold  and  snow  lay  deep  on  the  ground.  His  face  had  an  un- 
happy look,  and  he  rode  along  with  his  head  bent  forward  and 
drawn  down  amonor  the  fur  linino^s  of  his  cloak. 

As  this  horseman  passed  the  cottage  he  looked  carelessly  at 
its  single  small  window,  and  then  suddenly  drew  his  rein  and 
stopped.     What  did  he  see  ?     Nothing  very  wonderful.     Only 

119 


I  20  CHRISTMAS  IS   COMING. 

two  tiny  cedar  trees  not  more  than  twelve  inches  high,  each 
with  gay  ornaments  Hke  flowers  on  its  slender  branches,  purple, 
and  yellow,  and  scarlet. 

He  drew  his  rein  and  stopped.  For  a  little  while  he  sat 
gazing  at  the  tiny  Christmas  trees,  the  hard,  unhappy  lines 
o-oino-  slowly  out  of  his  face  and  a  more  pleasant  look  coming 
in  their  place.  Then  he  got  down  from  his  horse  and  went 
into  the  poor  litde  cottage. 

Felice  was  all  alone,  for  her  grandmother  had  gone  to  a 
neighbor's  to  get  some  wool  to  spin,  but  she  was  not  afraid 
when  the  tall  man  came  in,  for  though  he  had  a  cold,  almost 
stern  face,  there  was  something  kind  in  the  dark  eyes  that 
looked  into  hers. 

"  All  alone,  my  litde  maiden  ?"  he  said  as  he  looked  around 
the  room. 

''  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Felice,  and  the  man  thought  he  had 
never  heard  a  sweeter  voice.     ''  Granny's  gone  for  wool." 

"  Aren't  you  afraid  to  stay  here  all  by  yourself?"  asked  the 
man. 

"  Afraid  !"     There  was  a  slight  tone  of  wonder  In  the  child's 

voice. 

"  Yes  ;  it's  so  still  and  lonely." 

"  Granny  says,  if  I  think  good  thoughts,  angels  will  come 
close  to  me,  though  I  can't  see  them,  and  granny  knows.  I'm 
not  afraid  of  them,  sir." 

Felice  looked  up  into  the  man's  face  and  saw  it  soften  and 
change.  He  could  not  bear  her  steady  gaze,  and  so  turned  a 
little  from  her. 


CHRISTMAS  IS   COMING.  121 

"Won't  you  sit  down,  sir?"  said  Felice,  and  the  stranger 
took  one  of  the  old  wooden  chairs  in  the  room  and  sat  down. 

*'  So  you  are  going  to  keep  Christmas  ?"  The  man  looked 
at  the  two  tiny  trees  in  the  window,  and  as  he  did  so  his  eyes 
rested  on  two  or  three  more  standing  in  a  corner,  but  not 
dressed  like  the  others.  "  But  what  do  you  want  with  so 
many  trees  ?" 

"  Oh,  sir,  they're  for  some  of  the  poor  children  down  in  the 
village  who  won't  have  any  of  their  own,"  replied  Felice. 

The  man  seemed  to  catch  his  breath.  A  warm  color  came 
suddenly  into  his  face.  He  turned  and  gazed  for  some  moments, 
with  a  look  of  strange  surprise,  at  Felice.  How  pure,  and 
sweet,  and  innocent  her  face  was !  Not  a  line  of  self-approval 
there  ;  nothing  to  show  that  a  thought  of  anything  but  making 
the  poor  village  children  happy  had  ever  crossed  her  mind. 

"  Did  you  dress  them?"  asked  the  man,  rising  and  going  to 
the  window. 

"  Yes,  sir,  all  myself     Granny  has  to  spin." 

He  lifted  one  of  the  pots,  in  which  a  tiny  tree  was  planted, 
and  looked  at  it  closely.  The  little  rosettes  of  bright  cloth 
were  neatly  cut  and  tastefully  arranged  about  the  tree,  while 
here  and  there  hung  a  yellow  immortelle  or  purple  amaranth. 

He  stood  very  still  for  a  while,  and  then  drew  a  long  sigh. 

*'  Is  your  granny  old  ?"  he  asked  as  he  came  back  from  the 
window. 

"  Oh  yes,  sir,  she's  very  old.     Her  hair  is  white  as  snow." 

"And  so  poor  that  she  has  to  spin?" 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  all  day  long." 


122  CHRISTMAS  IS   COMING. 

"  How  old  are  you  ?" 

''  Nine,"  she  answered. 

"What  is  your  name?" 

*'  Felice." 

The  man  sighed  again.  After  a  moment  or  two  he  drew 
himself  up,  and  with  a  tone  of  reproof  in  his  voice,  said, 

"  I  think  it  would  be  better  to  help  your  poor  old  grand- 
mother than  to  waste  time  in  making  Christmas  trees  for  idle 
children  who  micrht  dress  their  own." 

o 

For  a  moment  or  two  the  man's  words  seemed  to  stun  the 
child.  She  moved  away  from  him,  and  her  eyes  had  a  fright- 
ened look.  But  this  soon  passed  off,  and  the  peace  of  a  good 
conscience  rested  on  her  dear  young  face. 

'*  You  don't  know,  or  you  wouldn't  say  that,"  she  answered, 
looking  at  him  steadily. 

He  felt  the  rebuke  of  her  eyes  and  words.  The  two  gazed 
steadily  at  each  other,  but  the  man's  eyes  were  first  to  turn 
away.  A  feeling  that  was  almost  reverence  for  the  little 
maiden  came  into  his  heart.  She  seemed  to  him  more  like  an 
aneel  than  a  child. 

"  Are  there  many  poor  children  in  the  village  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh  yes,  sir  !  a  great  many."  What  a  light,  what  a  hopeful 
interest,  came  into  her  face ! 

"  Do  you  dress  trees  for  them  all  ?"  inquired  the  stranger. 

"Oh  no,  sir!" 

"Why  not?" 

A  shadow  fell  upon  the  child's  face. 

"Why  not?"     The  man  repeated  his  question. 


CHRISTMAS    MORNING. 


CHRISTMAS   IS   COMING.  '  1 25 

"  We  are  poor,  granny  and  I,"  the  little  maiden  answered, 
"  and  it  takes  money  to  buy  the  pots  and  bright  cloth.  We  do 
all  we  can." 

The  stranger  caught  his  breath  again  like  one  a  little  scared. 
Then  he  bent  down,  and  lifting  the  child  gently,  kissed  her  and 
went  away. 

That  evening,  just  as  the  sun  was  going  down,  a  man 
brought  three  boxes  and  left  them  at  the  cottage. 

''Who  sent  them  ?"  asked  the  grandmother. 

But  the  man  only  said,  "They  are  for  you.  That  Is  all  I 
know,"  and  w^ent  away. 

When  they  opened  the  boxes,  what  surprise  and  gladness 
filled  their  hearts !  In  one  of  them  were  a  hundred  little 
flower-pots ;  In  another,  pieces  of  gay-colored  cloth,  gold  and 
silver  paper,  spangles  and  gilt  balls  ;  and  In  the  other  meal  and 
bread,  meat  and  dried  fruit,  and  a  purse  containing  a  small  sum 
of  money. 

Poor  old  granny  and  little  Felice  cried  for  very  gladness  of 
heart. 

What  a  busy  time  they  had  for  the  next  five  or  six  days, 
making  little  trees  out  of  cedar  and  pine  branches,  and  dress- 
ing them  up  In  gay  Christmas  attire  for  the  poor  village  chil- 
dren ! 

"  He'll  come  again,  granny,  I'm  sure  of  It,"  Felice  said,  every 
day,  as  they  worked  at  their  pleasant  task. 

But  she  was  mistaken.  The  stranger  did  not  come,  and 
Felice,  who  often  went  to  the  gate  In  front  of  the  cottage  to 
gaze  up  and  down  the  road,  looked  for  him  In  vain. 


126  CHRISTMAS  IS    COMING. 

At  last  it  was  the  day  before  Christmas,  and  the  floor  of 
their  cottage  was  like  a  flower  garden.  Every  one  of  the  hun- 
dred pots  had  its  tiny  Christmas  tree  that  stood  up  bravely  in 
fine  attire. 

"  What  shall  we  do  with  them  all  ?"  asked  Felice's  grand- 
mother as  she  stood  looking  at  the  beautiful  display. 

"  They  are  for  the  poor  village  children,"  answered  Felice. 

"  Oh  yes  !  But  there  are  so  many.  How  shall  we  get  them 
into  the  village?  It  would  take  us  all  day  to  carry  them  in, 
and  it's  bitter  cold.  See !  the  snow  is  beginning  to  fall.  I 
don't  know  what  we  shall  do." 

And  the  old  white-haired  grandmother  s  face  was  troubled. 

As  they  talked  in  their  perplexity,  they  heard  outside  the 
sound  of  wheels,  and  looking  from  the  window,  saw  the  man 
who  had  brought  the  three  boxes.  He  came  bustling  in,  rub- 
bing his  hands  to  warm  them,  and  saying,  as  he  entered, 

"  Are  the  Christmas  trees  ready  ?" 

There  was  no  need  of  an  answer,  for  he  had  but  to  look 
down  upon  the  floor  that  was  as  gay  and  beautiful  as  a  flower- 
bed. 

"  Ay,  ay  !"  he  said,  replying  to  his  own  question.  And  then, 
without  a  word  more,  he  commenced  gathering  them  up  and 
carrying  them  out.  It  was  not  long  before  every  Christmas 
tree  was  in  the  man's  wagon.  After  stowing  away  the  last 
armful,  the  man  jumped  in  and  drove  ofl",  without  so  much  as 
saying  *'  good-bye  "  to  granny  and  Felice,  who  had  stood  look- 
ing on  in  a  bewildered,  helpless  kind  of  way,  wondering  at 
what  they  saw. 


CHRISTMAS  IS   COMING.  I  27 

All  day  the  snow  fell,  and  Christmas  eve  closed  in  dark  and 
stormy  upon  the  inmates  of  the  little  cottage.  But  the  fire 
burned  cheerily  on  their  hearth  and  their  souls  were  full  of 
peace,  for,  though  they  should  not  see  it,  they  were  sure  that 
a  hundred  hearts  would  be  made  glad  through  the  work  of 
their  hands.  Sweet  was  their  sleep  that  night,  and  in  dreams 
they  heard  angel  voices  singing,  "  Peace  on  earth,  good-will  to 
men." 

What  a  elorious  Christmas  morninof  was  that  which  broke 
upon  the  world  when  next  night  drew  aside  her  dusky  curtains! 
Up  into  the  clear  blue  sky  the  sun  arose,  filling  the  air  with 
sparkles  like  diamond  dust,  and  giving  to  the  snowy  carpet  that 
covered  the  earth  the  sheen  of  fretted  silver. 

*'What  is  that,  my  child?"  asked  the  grandmother.  Their 
breakfast  was  over  and  she  was  at  her  wheel,  just  beginning  to 
spin. 

Felice  looked  from  the  window,  and  then  called  back  in  a 
hurried  voice : 

"  A  carriage  !     And  there's  a  lady  getting  out !" 

Too  much  surprised  to  move,  Felice  and  her  grandmother 
stood  still  until  the  door  opened  and  a  stately  woman  came  in, 
accompanied  by  a  servant  bearing  a  large  bundle.  But  with 
all  her  stateliness,  the  woman  had  a  kind  face  and  her  eyes 
were  full  of  a  tender  interest. 

''  And  this  is  little  Felice  ?"  she  said,  smiling  down  upon  the 
wondering  child.     Then  she  stooped  and  kissed  her. 

"  As  you  remembered  his  poor  children  at  Christmas-time, 
so  our  good  Father  in  heaven   has  put  it  into  our  hearts  to 


128  CHRISTMAS  IS   COMING. 

remember  you,"  the  lady  added,  kissing  Felice  a  second 
time. 

Then  she  turned  to  the  old  grandmother,  who  was  trembling 
with  joy  and  wonder,  and  taking  her  thin  brown  hand,  that  was 
shriveled  by  age  and  hardened  by  labor,  kissed  her  on  the  fore- 
head, saying,  as  she  did  so,  in  a  low,  serious  voice,  "  Inasmuch 
as  ye  have  done  it  unto  the  least  of  these,  ye  have  done  it  unto 
me." 

For  a  little  while  all  stood  in  reverent  silence.  Then  the 
lady  said,  in  a  cheery  voice,  her  whole  manner  changing  : 

"  A  merry  Christmas,  my  good  Dame  Helder !  And  a  merry 
Christmas,  Felice !  There's  going  to  be  a  gay  time  among  the 
village  children,  and  vou  are  both  wanted." 

At  this  the  servant  opened  the  bundle  she  carried,  and  the 
lady  took  from  it  a  handsome  new  gown,  warm  underclothing 
and  a  woollen  cloak  for  the  grandmother,  and  one  of  the 
sweetest  little  dresses  for  Felice  you  ever  saw,  with  plenty  of 
other  things  to  match. 

What  a  busy,  bustling,  bewildering  time  there  was  in  the 
cottage  for  the  next  half  hour !  Both  Felice  and  her  grand- 
mother thought  themselves  dreaming  all  the  while,  and  ex- 
pected every  moment  to  wake  up. 

As  soon  as  they  were  all  ready,  and  so  changed  that  they 
would  not  have  known  themselves,  they  were  taken  into  the 
carriage  and  driven  away. 

If  their  surprise  was  great  at  all  this,  it  was  doubled  when, 
after  riding  for  an  hour,  they  found  themselves  entering  the 
wide  court-yard  of  a  castle. 


CHRISTMAS  IS   COMING,  I  29 

As  the  carriage  drew  up  amid  a  group  that  were  gathered 
around  the  casde  door,  the  tall,  dark  man  who  had  stopped  at 
Dame  Helder's  cottage  came  out  quickly,  and  lifdng  Felice  in 
his  arms,  kissed  her  before  all  the  people,  and  then  carried  her 
into  the  castle. 

''  I'm  sure  it's  all  a  dream,"  said  Felice,  in  her  heart,  as  she 
lay  with  shut  eyes  in  the  strong  arms  that  held  her  very 
tenderly. 

All  at  once  a  sound  of  many  voices — children's  voices — 
broke  upon  her  ears.  She  opened  her  eyes.  Was  she  in 
Fairyland?  It  must  be  so,  she  thought,  for  surely  nothing  on 
earth  could  be  half  so  gay  and  beautiful.  She  was  in  a  large 
hall  hung  round  with  banners  and  curtains,  and  decked  with 
wreaths  and  festoons  of  evergreens.  From  the  centre  of  the 
hall  rose  a  great  Christmas  tree  whose  top  touched  the  ceiling, 
and  all  its  branches  were  laden  with  toys,  and  fruit,  and  rich 
confections. 

Around  the  tree,  at  the  bottom,  a  narrow  stand  had  been 
placed,  and  on  this,  sweeping  in  a  circle  of  beauty,  stood  the 
hundred  litde  trees  that  Felice  and  her  grandmother  had 
dressed  for  the  village  children. 

The  man — he  was  lord  of  the  casde,  and  the  people  in  the 
village  were  his  tenants — held  Felice  high  up  in  his  strong 
arms,  so  that  she  could  see  all  the  beautiful  things  in  the  hall 
and  the  happy  children  dancing  around  the  Christmas  tree. 
When  she  saw  the  circle  of  litde  trees,  she  could  not  keep  the 
tears  from  rolling  over  her  cheeks. 

Then  the  lord  of  the  castle  set  her  in  a  crimson  chair  that 


130  CHRISTMAS  IS   COMING. 

Stood  on  a  platform  at  the  upper  end  of  the  hall,  and  called  to 
the  children,  who  came  running  gayly  down  the  floor.  But 
when  they  saw  a  child  beautifully  dressed  sitting  in  the  crim- 
son chair,  they  grew  silent  and  pressed  closely  around  her. 

"It  is  Felice  !"  suddenly  cried  out  one  of  the  children. 

"  Oh,  it's  our  good  Felice  !"  said  another,  clapping  his  hands. 

And  "Felice!"  "Felice!"  Felice!"  ran  through  the  hall 
from  a  hundred  triad  voices. 

But  all  this  was  too  much  for  the  excited  child.  The  red 
flush  began  to  fade  out  of  her  sweet  face,  and  in  its  stead  there 
came  the  pallor  of  faintness.  At  this  moment  the  lady  who  had 
brought  her  from  the  cottage — she  was  wife  to  the  lord  of  the 
castle — entered  the  great  hall,  and  seeing  how  white  Felice  had 
grown,  caught  her  up  in  her  arms  and  carried  her  away  to  her 
own  chamber. 

Shall  I  tell  you  what  happened  after  this  ?  Felice  did  not  go 
down  again  to  the  hall,  where  the  children  of  the  village  spent 
the  happiest  Christmas  they  had  ever  known,  and  at  evening 
went  away,  each  taking  some  present  for  the  poor  father  and 
mother  at  home.  She  had  grown  faint  from  excitement,  and 
had  to  be  kept  quiet  all  day. 

What  happened  next  ?  Oh,  well,  this  Is  w^hat  happened. 
The  lord  and  lady  of  the  castle  had  no  children,  and  had  grown 
selfish  and  careless  of  their  poor  tenants  In  the  village.  But 
now  that  the  hand  of  this  strangely  sweet  and  gentle  child  had 
opened  a  door  in  their  hearts,  and  taught  them  a  lesson  of 
good  deeds,  love  went  out  toward  her  so  strongly  that  they 
could  not  send  her  back  from  the  castle.      Everv  dav  that  she 


CHRISTMAS  IS   COMING.  I3I 

remained  there  she  grew  lovelier  in  their  eyes  and  dearer  to 
their  hearts,  and  at  last  one  said  to  the  other, 

"  Let  her  be  to  us  as  our  own  child." 

And  it  was  answered, 

"  Let  it  be  so." 

And  it  was  so. 


DON'T  CRY   OVER  SPILLED  MILK. 


H,  pussy !"  cried  Herbert  In  a  voice  of  anger  and  dis- 
may as  the  blockhouse  he  was  building  fell  in  sudden 
ruin.  The  playful  cat  had  rubbed  against  his  mimic 
castle,  and  tower  and  wall  went  rattling  down  upon  the 
floor,  a  hopeless  wreck. 
In  blind  passion,  Herbert  took  up  one  of  his  blocks  and 
threw  it  fiercely  at  pussy.  Happily,  it  passed  over  her  and  did 
no  harm.  His  hand  was  reaching  for  another  block  when  his 
little  sister  Hetty  sprang  toward  the  cat  and  caught  her  up, 
saying, 

"  No,  no,  no  !  You  sha'n't  hurt  pussy.  She  didn't  mean  to 
do  it." 

Herbert's  passion,  which  had  blazed  up  with  so  quick  a 
flame,  went  out  as  quickly,  and  sitting  down  upon  the  floor,  he 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and  cried. 

"What  a  baby !"  said  Joe,  his  elder  brother,  who  was  reading 
on  the  sofa.  "  Crying  over  spilled  milk  does  no  good.  Build 
it  up  again." 

"  No,  I  won't,"  replied  Herbert,  and  went  on  crying. 
Joe  looked  down  upon  his  book  again.     Hetty  held  the  cat 
closely  in  her  arms,  and  Herbert  went  on  crying  in  a  miserable 
way. 

132 


DON'T  CRY  OVER   SPILLED   MILK.  1 33 

"What's  all  the  trouble  here?"  exclaimed  papa  as  he  opened 
the  door  and  came  In. 

"  Pussy  just  rubbed  against  Herbert's  castle  and  it  fell 
down,"  answered  Hetty,  "but  she  didn't  mean  to  do  it;  she 
didn't  know  it  would  fall,  did  she,  papa?" 

"Why,  no!"  said  papa.  ''And  is  that  all  the  trouble? 
Herbert!" 

The  little  boy  got  up  from  the  floor. 

"  Come  ;'■'  and  papa  held  out  his  arms. 

Herbert  came  slowly,  his  lips  pouting,  his  eyes  full  of  tears, 
and  stood  by  his  father. 

"There's  a  better  and  pleasanter  way  than  this,  my  boy," 
said  papa,  "and  if  you  had  taken  that  way,  your  heart  would 
have  been  light  already.  I  should  have  heard  you  singing 
instead  of  crying  over  your  blocks.  Shall  I  show  you  that 
way?" 

Herbert  nodded  his  little  head,  swallowed  back  his  sobs  and 
wiped  the  tears  from  his  eyelashes. 

Papa  sat  down  on  the  floor  by  the  ruined  castle,  and  Herbert 
sat  down  beside  him,  the  lost  smiles  already  beginning  to  play 
about  his  lips  and  to  dance  in  his  eyes. 

"  Don't  let  pussy  come  here,"  he  cried,  in  a  warning  voice,  to 
Hetty,  as  his  father  began  laying  out  the  foundation  for  a  new 
castle. 

"Pussy  isn't  going  to,"  answered  Hetty,  hugging  the  cat 
closely  in  her  arms. 

Soon  Herbert  was  as  much  interested  in  castle-building  as 
he  had  been  a  litde  while  before,  and  as  he  laid  block  upon 


134  DON'T  CRY  OVER   SPILLED   MILK. 

block,  the  pleasant  feelings  that  were  coming  into  his  heart 
flowed  out  in  low  music  from  his  lips.  He  began  to  sing  over 
his  work.     All  his  trouble  was  gone. 

"This  is  a  great  deal  better  than  crying,  isn't  it?"  said 
papa. 

"  Crying  for  what  ?"  The  little  fellow's  delight  in  his  work 
of  building  a  new  castle  was  so  great  that  he  had  already  for- 
gotten his  grief  of  a  few  minutes  before. 

"  Because  pussy  knocked  your  castle  over." 

"  Oh !"  A  shadow  flitted  across  his  face,  but  was  gone  in  a 
moment,  and  he  went  on  building  as  eagerl}^  as  ever. 

"  I  told  him  not  to  cry  over  spilled  milk,"  said  Joe,  looking 
down  from  the  sofa. 

'T  wonder  if  you  didn't  cry,"  retorted  Herbert,  "when  your 
kite-string  broke." 

"  Losing  a  kite's  another  thing,"  answered  Joe,  a  little  dashed 
at  this.  "The  kite  was  gone  for  ever,  but  your  blocks  were  as 
good  as  before,  and  you  only  had  to  build  again." 

"I  don't  see,"  spoke  up  papa,  "that  crying  was  of  any  more 
use  in  your  case  than  in  Herbert's.  Sticks  and  paper  are 
easily  found,  and  you  had  only  to  go  to  work  and  make  another 
kite." 

Joe  looked  down  at  his  book  and  went  on  reading.  By  this 
time  the  castle  was  finished. 

"  It's  ever  so  much  nicer  than  the  one  pussy  knocked  down," 
said  Hetty. 

And  so  thought  Herbert,  who  walked  around  the  handsome 
building  and  looked  at  it  proudly  from  all  sides. 


DON'T  CRY  OVER  SPILLED  MILK.  135 

*'  If  pussy  knocks  that  down,  I'll — " 

"  Build  it  up  again,"  said  papa,  finishing  the  sentence  for  his 
little  boy. 

'*  But,  papa,  she  mustn't  knock  my  casde  down.  I  can't  have 
it,"  spoke  out  Herbert,  knitdng  his  forehead. 

"You  must  watch  her,  then,  and  see  that  she  doesn't  rub 
against  your  buildings  and  push  them  over.  Litde  boys,  as 
well  as  grown-up  people,  have  to  be  often  on  guard.  If  you 
go  into  the  street,  you  have  to  look  out  for  the  carriages,  so  as 
not  to  get  run  over,  and  you  have  to  keep  out  of  people's  way. 
In  the  house,  if  you  go  heedlessly  about,  you  will  be  very  apt 
to  run  against  some  one.  I  have  seen  a  careless  child  dash 
suddenly  into  a  room  just  as  a  servant  was  about  leaving  it 
with  a  tray  of  dishes  in  her  hands.  A  crash  of  china  and  loss 
to  her  parents  followed." 

"That  was  me,"  piped  out  Hetty;  "wasn't  it?" 

"Yes,  I  believe  it  was,  and  I  hope  it  will  never  happen 
again." 

"I  guess  it  won't,"  said  Hetty,  with  just  a  litde  pride  at 
being  the  heroine  of  this  adventure  showing  itself  in  her  voice. 
"  But  wasn't  it  a  smash-up  ?" 

Papa  tried  to  look  very  serious,  but  there  were  twitches  in 
the  corners  of  his  mouth  that  the  children's  sharp  eyes  saw. 
To  keep  from  laughing  right  out,  he  jumped  up  from  the  floor 
and  went  out  of  the  room,  saying  as  he  did  so, 

"I  don't  want  any  more  of  this  crying  over  spilled  milk,  as 
Joe  says.  If  your  castles  get  knocked  down,  go  to  work  and 
build  them  up  again." 


TIRED  OF  READING, 


WENTY  pages  more,"  said  Adelaide  White,  turning 
to  the  back  of  the  book  to  see  how  many  leaves  re- 
mained. 
Then  she  gaped,  stretched  herself  wearily,  and  looked 
out  of  the  window  for  a  minute  or  two.  After  this  she 
bent  down  over  her  book  again  and  went  on  reading.  Her 
mother,  who  sat  sewing  in  the  room,  noticed  this. 

"Haven't  you  read  long  enough,  daughter?"  she  asked. 
"I'm  'most  through.     There  are  only  twenty   pages   left," 
Adelaide  replied. 

"  But  if  you  are  tired  of  reading,  why  not  stop  ?" 
"  Oh,  I'm  bound  to  finish  the  book  now,"  said  Adelaide.     "I 
have  set  myself  so  many  pages  to  read  every  day,  and  must 
o-o  through  to  make  up  the  number." 

"What  have  you   been   reading  about  for  the  last  ten  or 
fifteen  minutes  ?"  asked  Mrs.  White. 

Adelaide  turned  back  the  leaves  of  her  book,  and  began 
running  her  eyes  over  the  pages. 

"  Shut  your  book  and  tell  me,"  said  her  mother. 

Adelaide  closed  her  book  and  tried  to  remember,  but  was 

136 


r 


,iiiii;|iii;3ilCii;,;ii;ii.iii;ii,;iiiiiiiiii™ 


X?^---  VN^^V-^ 


TIRED  OF  KEADIXG. 


'U'K 


TIRED    OF  READING.  139 

able  to  give  only  a  very  confused  idea  of  what  she  had  been 
reading. 

''  Why  do  you  read?"  inquired  her  mother. 

Adelaide  was  silent. 

"  You  read  to  know,  do  you  not  .^" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Not  to  see  how  many  pages  you  can  go  over  in  a  given 
time.  One  page  a  day,  if  remembered,  is  better  than  a  hun- 
dred if  forgotten. 

''  Put  away  your  book,  dear,  and  go  out  into  the  garden,  or 
if  you  feel  like  it,  run  up  this  seam  for  me.  In  an  hour  from 
this  time  you  can  take  up  your  book  again,  and  then  you  will 
get  something  out  of  it." 

"I  guess  you  are  right,"  said  Adelaide,  and  she  shut  her 
book.     "Let  me  run  up  the  seam  for  you.     I  feel  just  like 


sewmg. 


And  in  a  few  moments  her  light  fingers  made  the  needle  fly 
along  the  seam.  All  her  weariness  of  mind  and  body  was 
gone.  After  an  hour  spent  in  sewing,  she  ran  out  into  the 
garden  and  breathed  the  pure,  sweet  air,  feeling  light  and 
happy  as  a  bird. 

In  the  evening  she  finished  her  book,  enjoying  every  page. 

Reading  is  like  eating.  Knowledge  is  food  for  the  mind.  If 
we  keep  on  eating  after  we  have  satisfied  hunger,  our  food 
loses  its  relish,  and  the  more  of  it  we  take  into  the  stomach, 
the  more  it  burdens  and  hurts  us.  And  so  of  reading.  So 
long  as  we  understand  and  relish  our  books,  if  they  are  of  the 
right  kind,  reading  does  us  good.     But  to  force  ourselves  to 


140 


TIRED    OF  READING. 


read  when  the  mind  is  weary  and  cannot  think — thinking 
about  what  we  read  is  like  digesting  food  in  the  stomach — is 
to  oppress  and  weaken  its  powers. 

A  Httle  reading  well  understood  is  better  than  a  great  deal 
that  is  not. 


THE  YOUNG  SOLDIER 


UB-A-DUB !  rub-a-dub-dub ! 

For  half  an  hour  the  sound  of  Robie's  drum  had 
come  up  to  me  from  the  room  below,  and  rub-a-dub, 
rub-a-dub-dub,  it  still  went  on. 
"I  must  talk  to  our  little  soldier-boy,"  said  I  to  myself, 
and  so  went  down  stairs. 

There  he  stood,  with  knapsack  and  sword  and  drum,  gazing 
intently  on  a  troop  of  wooden  horsemen  arranged  on  a  small 
round  table.  His  eyes  were  bright  and  his  countenance  full  of 
interest.  The  soldier-spirit  was  on  him.  How  handsome  he 
looked !  He  stopped  drumming  as  I  entered  the  room,  and  in 
a  litde  while  sat  down,  showing  signs  of  fatigue,  for,  as  I  have 
said,  his  rub-a-dub  had  been  going  on  steadily  for  at  least  half 
an  hour. 

"  Going  to  be  a  soldier?"  said  I. 

'*  Yes,  ma'am,"  he  answered,  promptly. 

'^  And  kill  people  ?" 

"  Only  enemies,"  he  replied. 

"  Have  you  enemies  ?"  I  asked. 

The  question  set  him  to  thinking. 


142  THE    YOUNG   SOLDIER, 

"There's  Bill  Toland,"  he  answered,  after  a  long  pause,  with 
a  flash  of  anger  in  his  eyes.  ''  I  guess  he's  an  enemy,  for  he 
threw  stones  at  me  yesterday,  and  last  week  broke  my  kite  all 
to  pieces.  He's  kicked  my  marbles  out  of  the  ring  ever  so 
many  times." 

''Then  you  would  like  to  kill  Bill  Toland?"  said  I. 

•'  No,  ma'am,  I  wouldn't,  but  Fd  like  to  give  him  a  good 
pounding  if  I  was  strong  enough,"  answered  Robie. 

"  But  you  are  not,  so  the  fight  would  be  unequal,  and  you'd 
get  the  worst  of  it.  It  may  be  that  a  good  pounding,  as  you 
say,  would  be  of  service  to  Bill  Toland  and  teach  him  to  let 
other  boys  alone.  But  I'm  afraid  that  if  you  were  strong 
enough  to  do  the  pounding,  you  would,  in  punishing  one 
enemy,  get  yourself  into  the  power  of  others  more  malignant 
and  hurtful." 

"  Oh !  He  has  lots  of  boys  to  help  him  as  bad  as  himself. 
I  know  that  well  enough.  Bill's  one  of  a  gang,  and  they  call 
themselves  Wild  Cats." 

''  I'm  sorry  for  that,"  I  answered,  ''  but  when  I  spoke  of  other 
enemies,  I  did  not  mean  Bill  Toland's  Wild  Cat  gang,  but  the 
troop  of  bad  feelings,  such  as  anger,  hatred  and  cruelty,  that 
would  rush  into  your  soul,  if  you  angrily  undertook  to  punish 
Bill  for  throwing  stones  at  you  and  breaking  your  kite.  You 
might,  if  strong  enough,  pound  him  sorely,  but  I'm  afraid,  after 
all,  that  you  would  get  the  worst  of  it  from  other  enemies,  who 
might  take  you  off  your  guard,  and  hurt  your  spirit  with  the 
fires  of  evil  passion." 

Robie's  face  grew  grave  and  thoughtful. 


THE    YOUNG   SOLDIER.  1 43 

"You  understand  me,  do  you  not?"  1  asked. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  he  replied,  without  hesitation. 

"Bad  feeling-s,"  I  said,  "are  our  worst  enemies,  as  I  have 
often  told  you.  Against  these  every  one  has  to  tight,  and  we 
must  conquer  them  or  they  will  conquer  us.  In  this  warfare 
we  fight  by  the  sword  of  truth.  Do  you  know  what  that 
means  ?" 

"  No,  ma'am,"  he  answered,  with  his  clear  eyes  looking 
steadily  into  mine. 

"  A  real  truth  is  something  from  the  Bible,  for  the  Bible  is 
God's  word,  and  what  God  speaks  must  be  the  very  truth 
itself.  Love  your  enemies  is  a  truth,  and  may  become  like  a 
sword  in  your  mind." 

"How.f*"  my  boy  asked,  with  his  earnest  eyes  still  looking 
into  my  face. 

"  Why  do  you  feel  like  giving  Bill  Toland  a  good  pounding?" 
I  asked. 

"  Because  I'd  like  to  punish  him  for  breaking  up  my  kite  and 
throwing  stones  at  me." 

"  That  is,  you  are  angry  and  wish  to  be  revenged  on  him." 

Robie  thought  for  a  little  while,  and  then  answered, 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  I  guess  that  is  it." 

"The  Bible  says,  Love  your  enemies.  Now,  if  you  take  that 
truth  as  a  sword  and  fight  with  it,  against  whom  will  you  fight? 
Not  angrily  against  Bill  Toland,  but  against  the  feeling  of  re- 
venge in  your  heart  that  urges  you  to  hurt  him  all  you  can. 
And  as  soon  as  you  begin  to  conquer  this  feeling  kindness  will 
flow  in,  and  you  will  feel  sorry  for  Bill,  and  wish  to  do  him  good 


144  THE    YOUNG   SOLDIER.      ' 

instead  of  harm.  And  so  you  will  become  a  soldier  in  a  better 
and  higher  sense  than  you  desired  just  now.  There  is  a  good 
fight,  my  dear  boy  !  We  must  all  be  soldiers,  and  give  battle 
to  the  enemies  that  are  within  our  hearts.  Anger,  selfishness, 
hatred  and  all  wrong  and  evil  desires, — these  are  our  worst 
enemies,  who  are  ever  seeking  to  overcome  and  destroy  us, 
and  we  must  gird  on  the  sword  of  truth  and  fight  against  them, 
sure  of  conquest  if  we  are  watchful  and  brave,  for  in  this  fight 
they  who  are  for  us  are  stronger  than  all  who  are  against  us, 
for  God  and  his  angels  are  on  our  side." 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 


LOAN  DEPT. 

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^n  the  date  to  which  renewec 

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